


Summer Boy

by artemismoon12



Category: CPCoulter's Dalton
Genre: Bisexuality, Coerced Theme Park Management Internship, F/F, Florida, Gen, I am Canadian, I have never been to Florida, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Universal Studios, Upped the Rating bc sometimes its CW sometimes its HBO, Wizarding World Of Harry Potter, no editor, post hell night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 114,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemismoon12/pseuds/artemismoon12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian had a good acting career, he didn't need high school- so after Hell Night he dropped it, enough bad memories.  What he didn't expect was running into Windsor House's White Knight in Orlando of all places. </p><p>Title from "Summer Boy" by Lady Gaga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nice to Meet Ya

**Author's Note:**

> This plotbunny hit me over the head and I have made this my NaNoWriMo project rather than my Christabel re-imagining. Blame Margot (not George for once).

It was Orlando- they were in town to film the new season of Something Damaged. The red carpet they were on was an album release party, some new up and coming band who was featured on the show, held at the Universal Studios Park. The day was blistering hot, so most people were in short sleeves and more sunblock than you could carry comfortably without a security guard and a plastic bag. 

Julian had thrown his everything into the show, even with his downgraded role due to injury. He could finish school whenever he wanted; he just wanted to get away from that place- and those people. 

“Julian! Julian! Look over here! How are you coping after the events of the spring?” “Julian! Tell us about the fire!” “Julian! How do you feel about the light sentence handed to your attacker?” 

Luckily Clark pushed between him and the cameras; lessening their attacks. He was still smiling, both of them as considerate towards the press as they could be, but the entire cast was finding themselves being barriers when Julian’s smile got that twitch to it. 

“Hey, it’s Amanda from SD-Fans Online, let’s go talk to her.” Clark suggested. 

“Sure.” Julian’s voice was breezy, but they both knew he was grateful. 

The Amanda in question was a blogger on the official Something Damaged fansite. She was in a sundress that looked like the one Isabelle’s character was wearing last season, and had a huge smile on her face. She’d started getting invited to events that the cast was at so the show could have a tab on fan activity. She was even one of their favourite interviewers when they found out she was more respectful than people who did this for a living. 

“Clark! Julian! Hi how are you guys doing?” She asked, her partner holding a professional grade camera for the web exclusive. 

“Hey Amanda- Krissy,” Clark said, ever polite to even the behind the scenes people. Krissy gave him a thumbs up and shifted to get their good sides. “We’re doing okay, happy to be here in Orlando.” 

“Florida weather not getting you down? The humidity is a killer.” Amanda joked. 

“We’re from California, after a drought in high summer nothing is too bad.” Julian’s sunglasses hiding how the smile genuinely reached his eyes. 

“Now what would really be bad is if you guys gave away any juicy details as to what your characters are up to this season.” Amanda pried. “I know Julian, you’re downsizing your role to allow for a more cohesive storyline and maximizing your abilities correct?” The two of them relaxed, Amanda got it. “Does that mean we won’t get to see anymore scenes with Grant and his girl of the week?” 

Julian laughed, “No, we’re trying to take Grant in a new direction and that’s mostly through his relationship with Matthew. I believe Clark could answer this better.” 

 

Clark nodded, “The bulk of what we’re going to do with Grant this season revolves around his friendship with Matthew, and how it’s really changed them both for the better. Matthew is getting what he’s always wanted, to be more than just a jock- but on the flip side while it’s maturing Grant, Matthew is going to be wrestling with who exactly he is- especially given our special guest star who puts a real wedge in the situation.” 

“Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like this, ‘special guest star’? Can I get a hint?” Amanda asked, fake pouting. 

“Well he’s a great actor on other shows, and his role is going to be a lot of fun- that, and the location shift was something the writers have been sitting on for ages in the scripts.” Clark explained. 

“We’re really grateful for the material they’ve been giving us, they outdo themselves really.” Julian said. 

“So now that you’ve shut me down on the show- what about for the future? I know Haven is on tour later this summer, and movie wise is Julian Larson going back to films?” Clark shot a worried look down at Julian, who just shrugged. It was Amanda; she was a safe person to talk to.

“We’re going to be playing a short US tour, just down the East coast before doing a few stops in Texas, Florida, and California; nothing too large before we gear up for the winter tour in Europe. We should also have a single coming out before tour starts.” Clark rattled off the info like an old pro and let Julian jump in with his news. 

“I’m actually going to be joining Clark for the southern part of the tour; I love hanging out with the guys in Haven, and I’ll be using the time on the road to work on collaborating with some independent writers to work on a film I’m producing for Sundance.” Julian smiled, “After playing Grant so long I’ve gotten an affinity for musicians so the film is about a touring musician and the life that comes along with it.” 

“Producer? You’re only eighteen!” The two weren’t sure if Amanda was more dazed by the heat or the news- Krissy was hiding her squeals behind the camera because anyone who was anyone online loved Haven and Julian hangouts, and this summer was going to amazing if this is what they all had in store. 

“No, but I’ve seen enough of the industry to want to put my millions where my mouth is and actually allow for some fresh talent to get recognized.” Julian really did believe that, and while he loved being in front of the camera having a diverse resume and something so exciting would defiantly stop any talk of his father, his mother, or the fire. 

“Well we’re out of time but you’ve definitely given us a lot to think about. Clark Sawyer and Julian Larson will be returning to television this fall, in the latest season of Something Damaged. Thank you so much guys.” Amanda waved them off and Krissy gave them both a high five. 

They were being called in to the party, but not before getting yelled at one more time. 

“Sawyer! Larson!” Not necessarily the faux familiarity of paparazzi- and there, wearing more black than anyone in Florida should have any business being in- was a reminder of the worst night of Julian’s life in the flesh. 

Clark was the first to answer, “Dwight Houston, right? Reed’s friend.” 

“We’ve met yes.” Dwight’s black blazer looked like actual wool, but despite the heat he wasn’t sweating. That level of cool would certainly do him well if he ever wanted to get into acting. “I heard there would be some events in the park today, but I wasn’t expecting to actually see you.” 

“What are you doing here?” Julian asked shortly. 

Dwight shrugged, “Mom’s on the board. She said if I want to skip college then the trade off is working with park operations during the summers. Anyway,” he looked up at Clark, “Reed’s been saying some weird things about his mom lately, so you should either call her and get her to back off or just help him out, I’m banned since the time I ruined the security lock on her walk in closet with my crossbow.” 

He looked over to Julian, “And secondly, I wanted to apologize- everyone says you haven’t been in contact with anyone from school so I had to do it in person.” 

That was surprising. “For what?” 

“For not getting there sooner.” He had a sad look on his face before security started interrogating him, and Julian and Clark were hustled inside for the party. 

It didn't sit right with Julian for the rest of the day; and he resolved that maybe it was just another Dalton boy being weird as hell, but Houston for all the times he’d salted Stuart, or disrupted classes, or been creepy for a freshman- Julian knew that only Dwight, Kurt, and Bancroft’s little sister had actually seen something was up and tried to do something. 

He still had mixed feelings about Kurt, but Dwight had never made it unclear how much apathy he felt towards the Stuarts. It was like he blamed himself for what happened from what happened. It made no sense. Clavell had only been after him, and yet… 

In the aftermath despite cutting off ties with Dalton he still heard things through interviews, or family friends, or even Clark. Besides himself, Dwight had the longest stint in the hospital- and had apparently gotten pushed out the guy’s third floor dormitory window. Yet, he had still run to the Art Hall. Julian didn’t see much of him inside the building, but if he had gotten there earlier would it have made a difference? Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Taylor Swift


	2. Just a Hufflepuff

One of the upsides about having your role downsized was there was a lot of down time. While Clark and Nathan were on set Julian was in his trailer, waking up mid-afternoon after a comfortable nap in a sunbeam. He contemplated dropping by set, but he found himself wanting to wander back to the Universal Parks, if only to see the Harry Potter Park because they’d been so rushed yesterday. 

He didn’t go anywhere in public without security since he’d gotten out of physical therapy, and even months later he wasn’t fully okay with moving quickly. His doctors also said he shouldn’t be jumping right back into filming, but the fans and the paparazzi were second nature to him. Fooling everyone to think he was okay made him feel more normal, he’d been doing it for so long after all. 

He’d gotten a new security guard and driver, fraternal twins Carlos and Carmen who had a great record from what his management told him. They kept quiet when they needed to, but were also friendly and resourceful. He had relied on taxis in the past but having a team looking after him was a good safety net- a team devoted to just him and not their own personal drama. 

When they arrived in the already packed Universal parking lot, Carlos was worried, but Julian had the ugliest baseball cap he could find and red shield sunglasses. They weren’t going on any rides, just people watching. He wanted to get out of his own head- although that would be difficult with all the internal monologueing he’d been doing lately. 

“At least you’re outside of the trailer for once, you were losing that wonderful tan you just perfected.” Carmen said; her hair caught up in a ponytail and stowing the park passes into her bag. 

“It’d be safer in the trailer.” Carlos commented, flanking Julian with enough room to ease any claustrophobia they’d have in the crowds. 

“Summer TV is always so bland though, I need to get out otherwise I’ll become a crazy shut in like Tom Cruise.” Julian said, snickering at Carlos’ scandalized look. Carlos had been marathoning a Mexican reality show that translated to “Lords of Glory” which was more of soap opera with each new episode. 

Carmen patted her brother’s shoulder, “We’re close to the winged pig gates, see if you can spot any possible threats.” 

Julian felt content as they settled into a comfortable silence. The park around them had fake snow on each roof, and enough peppermint and caramel in the air to knock out a fifth grader. Other than that the women in Beauxbatons costumes and fans posing with the Hogwarts Express were pretty cool. 

Carmen came back with drinks after Julian and Carlos chose a bench to sit down on- Julian updating his twitter while Carlos did a surreptitious check of his non-lethal weaponry. For all intents they looked like any other tourists there on a day trip. Julian though the ugly baseball hat did a lot of the work for him. Carlos’ Bermuda shorts helped too. 

Julian felt a tug on his shirt, a little girl with a Gryffindor t-shirt was smiling up at him. “Mister would you take a picture of my mommy and me?” 

The girl’s mother was apologetic that her daughter had just gone up to a stranger but Julian took the woman’s phone and snapped a photo of the girl and her mother anyways. Carlos had been anxious by his side, in case it was a media trap but Carmen was just smiling as the woman thanked Julian and walked away. 

“You’re really good with kids you know that?” 

He didn’t know how to respond to that in a way that wasn’t sarcastic. “I’m an actor.” He went back to people watching. 

The sun was overpowering and the park felt like a desert; but the cold literary inspired drink was pretty refreshing and there wasn’t an overabundance of bratty children interrupting the din of the crowds. 

“Come on Dwight, don’t get into this again.” A man said, annoyance in his voice. Julian stopped sipping his drink and looked about. Dwight had said yesterday that he was doing some sort of internship thing at the Universal Parks because of his family; but he hadn’t expected to see him around so soon. 

“There is something up in the Hippogriff ride I’m telling you, it’s not right and the employees aren’t going to fix it.” Sure enough there was Houston arguing with a man in a dress shirt, both of them with the lanyards of park management. Julian elbowed Carlos and started walking towards the pair next to the gift shop, his team trailing behind.

The man looked exasperated with Dwight, pinching his nose and turning to walk away. “I know your mother put you here as a supervisor but just because you have a lot of experience in the parks doesn’t mean that ‘creaking’ sound is a ghost- or your revised answer of a machine error. The rides are fine and you’re just saying this so you can ‘test them out’. If your mother wasn’t a shareholder-”

“Yeah exactly, she is. My mother has been running these parks for years, I think I would know when something is wrong.” Dwight countered, to the manger’s dismissive look. 

Julian interrupted, his hand on one hip like the bratty teenager gossip rags liked to make him out to be. “Um like, could someone go clean up the Butterbeer stand? Someone’s kid has totally puked everywhere and it’s gross.” 

“Oh of course, terribly sorry about that. I’ll go get someone right away.” The man said with the fakest smile Julian had ever seen. He whipped out a walkie talkie and immediately started towards the other side of the path. 

Dwight was about to make his own excuses to leave before Julian lowered his sunglasses and looked at him questioningly. “Rough day at the office Houston?” 

Dwight goggled; probably wondering what the hell Julian was doing talking to him willingly. “Um, not really. There’s just a creak in the Hippogriff ride that guy doesn’t believe is there- even though tourists have been saying they don’t feel safe.” 

“He said you thought it was a ghost.” Julian wasn’t asking. 

“Well something isn’t right about it.” Dwight waved his hands about. “And I’m not even allowed on the rides, the doctors said my back still wasn’t right so he’s just being an asshole because I’m younger than him.” 

The shadows of the gift shop cooled the pavement significantly, but Julian still noticed Dwight was in all black again. For the school’s resident weirdo he didn’t have terrible taste in clothes- he could pass at that vagrant artist-type if he ever went to L.A. Seemed odd the kid was from Florida of all places. 

“What’s up with your back?” Julian asked before he thought about the implications of getting involved in the guy’s personal problems. 

“Uh, it’s just not quite right after um, you know, pushed me out the window into the bushes, and then I jumped out of the Art Hall.” He looked embarrassed. “Nothing too aggravating until Christmas.” 

Julian looked thoughtful. “You really went after him didn’t you?” 

“It’s what I do.” Dwight answered insticintvly, biting his lip nervously. 

Carlos and Carmen were a couple feet away chatting like they weren’t listening in, though they were. Crowds were excellent for having conversations because no one paid attention unless they knew what to listen for. 

“You know you couldn’t have done anything.” Julian said. “You didn’t even have to get involved.” 

Dwight looked down. “He threatened my friends- its his fault everything got all screwed up.” 

The silence hung in the air before Julian changed the subject. “So the Hippogriff ride?” 

“The girls who run the ride are so used to weird noises with all the tourists that they don’t notice it- but its not supposed to creak while it’s sitting still. Jeremy just doesn’t want a bad safety report while he’s Wizarding World supervisor.” Dwight frowned, crossing his arms. 

Over near the aforementioned ride the lines were almost an hour long, and growing. If something went wrong with it a lot of people would be upset and complain- especially as there were only a few rides amongst the merchandise stalls, and general materialism based economy of the false Hogsmede. 

Julian turned back to Dwight, squaring his shoulders. “Show me.” 

“What?” Dwight was hearing him right? 

“Show me. If it creaks I’ll be your second opinion and blast them to get a maintenance worker in.” He turned his cap back. “Least I could do as a distressed celebrity just trying to visit a school friend on the job site.” 

Dwight looked at him warily, but it might have been from someone actually asking to confirm one of his theories without scepticism or judgement. Julian smirked and motioned for Dwight to lead the way. 

They bypassed the line with Dwight’s lanyard, and Julian confirmed- yeah that creak sounded super dangerous. It only took him removing his meagre disguse to loudly complain about unsafe conditions for the ride to get shut down in an instant. The park supervisor came in to see a repair team holding up the line while they found a cracked timber under the loading platform. 

“Listen to the kid, he’s got good instincts.” Julian patted the supervisor condescendingly on the shoulder before sauntering out with Carlos and Carmen at his sides. 

Dwight jogged to catch up before Carmen let him in beside Julian. “Larson! Thanks, I mean you didn’t have to but-”

Julian kept walking quickly as the shrieks began, people from the lineup spreading the word that Julian Larson was in the WWoHP. “No, it was the least I could do after you got caught up in my shit during Parent’s Night.” 

“That wasn’t your fault.” Dwight interjected. 

“Doesn’t mean I still don’t owe a lot of people.” Carmen handed Julian his high end sunglasses from her bag and he put them on with a grateful smile. 

Dwight let out a deep breath. “You know I’m kind of getting why Kurt found you so infuriating to deal with.” 

“Least I don’t have a ‘saving people’ thing that extends to people I don’t even like.” Julian smirked, stopping to pluck a Gryffindor scarf from a stall made up like a wooden sweet cart. He held it up to Dwight with a considering look. “It suits you.” 

Dwight snatched it out of his hands and gave Julian an unimpressed look. “Slytherin?” 

“As they come.” 

Julian’s laugh was cut short by the growing swarm of people; and Carlos quickly rushed him out of the park. He didn’t look back, but if he did he would have seen Dwight Houston looking very curiously over at him from the stall, not putting the scarf down until he was called away by a Drumstrang actor. 

It would not be the last they saw of one another- not by a long shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Oliver Boyd and the Rememberalls. Thought it was appropriate despite neither of them being 'Puffs.


	3. Where You Been?

It wasn’t the next day- Julian was on set. The day after that there was a few meetings he had to go to about the budget and director for his as-of-yet untitled film. The third day he did make it back to Universal for a meet and greet but he didn’t see Dwight around. 

It was when Carlos asked him to sit still on the little golf cart ferrying them around the park that Julian realized he’d been looking for that quasi-gothic boy with the lanyard and slight limp. 

He didn’t know why he was looking for Dwight; he had never had any particular affection for the guy. Of all the Windsors maybe the one he found the least offensive was that Hendricks kid who worked for the paper; or Reed simply because Clark was related to him. But on the other hand, Houston had been one of the few people who had tried to stop Adam, but had no obligation to help through connection to Logan, or Adam, or any of the underlying tensions. 

Thinking about Logan hurt- he had managed to get a lot of those emotions out in therapy but having a knife to his neck as he was forced to tell him in the Art Hall. Well it brought up bad memories. It hadn’t occurred to him at the time, but Dwight had seen the confession with the rest of those conspirators, but none of them had outed him. He appreciated that. 

For a Windsor Dwight sort of exemplified all that Stuarts hated about the house- but he wasn’t a Stuart anymore. He wasn’t a slave to Logan Wright’s drama. He wasn’t even friends with Derek- ignoring his calls and texting his script team instead. His therapist said he should be connecting with the other people who were in the Art Hall, so he’d count this as a good thing. 

One week since the visit to the Wizarding World was when Julian crossed paths with Dwight again- although not at the Park surprisingly enough. 

“I thought only members were allowed in here.” Dwight said surprised. 

The place in question was an upscale yacht club on the coast, just outside of Orlando and on the private beaches near the luxury resorts. Nathan had insisted they go have some fun, so without the need of security they accepted the invitation of a nice young lady to visit her dad’s club and test drive some of the boats. 

Julian had been eating some of the tuna pate from catering when Dwight had interrupted his appreciative looks at one of the waitresses and her male coworker.  
“I had an invitation from the owner’s daughter. I expect you’re here on mommy’s request again?” Julian finished the cracker and looked over the olive platter, pleased to see the indigant look on Dwight’s flushed face. 

“I- I, it’s not like I want to make her upset. She’s my mom.” Dwight said, crossing his arms. “We can’t all have jet setting moms who let us do whatever we want.” 

Julian raised an eyebrow. “You go on thinking that Houston. At least get the stick out of your ass and enjoy the view.” 

Julian motioned towards the wait staff and Dwight sputtered. “I have more important things to do than chase people who have better things to do.” 

“Than you?” Julian filled in with a smirk. 

Dwight groaned. “Eat your tuna Cheshire.” 

“So we’re going that route? Does this mean I have to call you White Knight?” Julian chuckled and flicked an olive at Dwight’s head. 

“Only if you want some really weird looks from the other members.” Dwight rolled his eyes. 

“Sir Dwight then?” 

“Really?” Dwight looked at him disbelievingly. 

“Fair is fair Sir.” He said the last word mockingly to which Dwight looked like he was done with the whole conversation. 

“I would dignify that with a response, but I have a yacht to exorcise.” With a grace Julian hadn’t realized the awkwardly elbowed Windsor capable of, Dwight stole the salt shakers and dipped under the arms of a couple wait staff into the “exit” sign by the kitchens. 

It was only a couple minutes after when he started talking to one of the waitresses in a similar tone of voice, that Julian realized he’d be flirting. 

He promptly choked on his pate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Taylor Swift


	4. Gallons of the Stuff

Julian put the incident out of his mind, effectively so as he had a solid day of shooting after that. Grant and Matthew were facing off about where Matthew was taking his life; Grant would be yelling at him for throwing a game while the sports scout was watching just because a girl told him too. Matthew would argue it wasn’t because of her, but Grant knew better and accused him of trying too hard to break out of his comfort zone- which was comfortable because he was good at it.  
Grant’s scene where he brushed the girl in question’s advances away was already filmed earlier in the day; and thus Julian was able to throw all his emotion into the scene, telling Clark’s character that the girl was a terrible person anyways, and he was naive not to see it. 

Sometimes the scenes hit home, other times they didn’t. Julian appreciated Clark’s ‘good job’ before they parted ways on the final take. This scene particularly didn’t strike the same chords he thought it might when he read through it, a friend warning another friend away from a heartless lover? Blaine had never come onto him though, or Kurt- but Logan would have thrown away his life for either. Grant wasn’t in love with Matthew, so there was another difference that made the scene less like a personal thing, and more like the job he enjoyed with every fibre of his being. 

The more months that passed since he had last seen Logan, the easier it was to accept those shocked and confused looks he’d given him in the Art Hall. It wasn’t easy, don’t kid yourself. But acceptance was something Julian had been able to handle for years, and distractions were always welcome. 

He supposed that was why he’d thrown himself headlong back into acting, and now producing. Julian had for years doubled it as his escape, but now with so many people who knew he couldn’t face, going back to Dalton next year would just be a fool’s errand. Those shocked green eyes following him, hovering over his shoulder. 

If Logan had accepted it fine, but it wouldn’t change his pursuit of Kurt, or Blaine, or whatever new boy caught his attention. If Logan tried to reciprocate? Well that’d just be like Logan wouldn’t it? Chasing someone who didn’t want anything to do with him now. That ship had sailed and it would just leave a sour taste in his mouth if they did do anything. 

He had been going through the fan letters he’d received after he was in a coma- and someone summed it up quite well: “Love sucks.” They had been referring to false love by fans who thought throwing flowers at him would make him wake up, but generally any sort of person who thought hand holding and sappy poetry would heal a person of years of hurt they were wrong. Logan was that sort of person, ignoring other people’s feelings as long as his own were satisfied. 

Was that a cynical view to have? Yes. But considering his recent company: Clark, who didn’t date anyone for fear of putting them in the public’s scrutiny; Nathan and Isabelle, who had perfectly healthy views of true love being a subjective thing; Carlos and Carmen, whose private lives he preferred to stay out of; and now, Dwight. The kid who was, arguably, the closest thing Dalton had seen to a celibate teenager since bible study had been a thing at schools. He had allegedly turned down more than one hot girl by accusing them of being succubi, so either he was devoted to a holier power or just dumb as a post.

So overall, Julian didn’t have many people talking him into the healing power of a true love who simply hadn’t opened their eyes to him yet. More like a good balance of people who just cared if he was happy, or people who just didn’t want him to blow up on them. He could work with that. 

\---

The next time Julian and Dwight met, it was a little odd. 

Julian had simply been reading through his script in his trailer on the beach. They were back near the Universal lot; prepping for a scene with the guest star of the week, and a couple of the leads doing a dramatically comedic scene. Though Grant wasn’t in it, he still felt it’d be nice to show up unexpectedly and help out how he could, or at least observe more from behind the camera if he was going to be serious about this production deal. 

He had just been rereading the episode’s twist when Carmen came knocking; a concerned look on her face. 

“Julian, could you grab the first aid kit and come out here please?” 

“Why?” He asked, in the middle of deciding if he wanted to mark ‘are you even my friend anymore’ as emotionally distraught, or icey and angry in his notes. 

“There’s been a bit of an accident.” 

At this point Julian should have expected to see Dwight, finding that if they were near Universal Dwight would be there. He was a little confused however as to why Dwight had ended up so close to the set when they had everything marked off for filming. 

Neither did it explain why one of the interns was pressing gauze to Dwight’s nose after it looks like he slammed into the side of a trailer. 

“Houston, what the fuck?” 

He hadn’t brought the first aid kit out. Carmen sighed and went in to grab it. That left Julian alone with an intern and a reluctant theme park manager- who at the moment, was currently bleeding all over the sand between the trailers. 

Dwight looked over. “I swear this is a coincidence- beach management has been getting complaints about closures so I was coming over to see how long shooting was going to be.” 

“And you’re bleeding all over Izzy’s trailer because?” He got closer and brushed the intern away, Dwight more than capable of keeping his own nose together. 

“I thought someone was sacrificing a goat and I slipped.” Because that was a normal response. 

“That’s just the sound Izzy makes when she’s warming up.” If Isabelle was there to defend herself she wouldn’t- vocal exercises were fucking weird and any actor knew that. 

“That’s not any more reassuring.” Dwight deadpanned. 

Julian put his hands on his hips and looked up at the guy, who was, true to form in more black than a punk show. He would ask if Dwight was okay but that was obviously moot as the blood was already drying on his upper lip. It was distracting. 

“This is Florida. You’re crazy to be wearing all that black.” Julian said disbelievingly. 

Dwight flinched. “I’m not crazy.” 

The intern saw the frown on Julian’s face and excused themselves, stammering something about finding ice. Julian didn’t get it- everyone back at Dalton said that about Dwight- even his friends. He had assumed it was- anyway. If he wasn’t a Dalton boy he shouldn’t act like one anymore. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Everyone says it, but I’m not.” Dwight said, tugging at his sleeve where there probably was a blood stain from wiping his nose but it didn’t show on the black wool. 

Julian wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Come on, let’s go. Izzy’ll freak when she comes outside and sees blood on the sand so I don’t want to be around for that.” 

Dwight protested, saying something about having to get back to the others about beach closures. He lost though, as Dwight found himself seated in Julian’s trailer; the soft evening breeze from the open window flowing in to ruffle their hair artfully. 

His face was clean now. Julian had thrust a moist toilette into his hand so he could “stop looking like a car accident”. Unless something demonic reared its head, he had been assuming Julian was simply nicer when he wasn’t at Stuart. This was a little much though, and he didn’t know what to make of this show of kindness. It seemed too human for the impossible Julian Larson he’d come to expect. 

“Why’d they send you?” Julian asked- picking through the few, but present stage powders at his light table. The makeup team had left a couple new ones to spot test with him. He let the clink of glass and plastic be the loudest sound in the room besides their quiet conversation. 

“I guess they saw me talking to you the other day and figured we know each other, so there’s an in that wouldn’t ruffle the producer’s feathers.” Dwight scratched his chin, thinking about his answer. “I also might have encouraged the idea because some of the other managers were getting a little creepy about some of the girls you have on set here. Does the show always require this many models? It’s like one of Reed’s runways over here.” 

Julian could see what he meant- the scene being shot today did require a lot of hot extras, but there were hardly supermodels. A few did catalogues but none of them were allowed to upstage the leads. 

“Like the girls who helped me out-” Dwight continued. 

Julian snorted. “That’s just one of the interns. And Carmen, my driver. You met her the other day at the Hippogriff ride.” 

“Oh.” Dwight looked down embarrassed. “I’m not the best with faces I guess.” 

“Really Houston? I thought you were supposed to be the all-knowing hunter; able to spot a demon at three hundred yards.” Julian supposed it sounded mocking, but he had done a guest spot on Supernatural. He admired the dedication of the fanbase, they kept including him in mass-ensemble gifsets online anyways. 

Dwight rolled his eyes. “If it’s demonic of course- but normal people…?” 

“Normal? What does that make you then? Abnormal?” Julian asked, leaning on the armrest of his cushy spinning chair. 

“I told you I’m not crazy Larson.” Dwight got up to leave but Julian tugged him back down by the wrist. 

“I know.” Julian said, the teasing grin still on his face. “It’s pretty easy to wind you up you know? But honestly if anyone knows about abnormal it’s Hollywood folk. I’ve seen more whackjobs on one block of LA than you could have ever encountered here in Florida.” 

“You don’t know Florida very well then.” Dwight remarked, obviously thinking of all the ‘Florida man’ headlines that appeared in the news every month or so to shock and confuse the rest of the country. “This place does weird better the Weird Sisters.” 

“You know your drama.” Julian approved. 

“It’s just freshman English, nothing to be impressed with.” Dwight said, picking apart the moist toilette between untrimmed fingernails. 

“Still.” Julian threw his feet up on the counter of his dressing table and stretched out in his chair. “If this place is as weird as you say maybe it does explain you a little more- product of the state.” 

“Like an actor from LA?” Dwight asked. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” He paused. “Still think I’m possessed?” 

Dwight hazarded a smile. “You’re being nice to me; I think it’s even more likely you’re under the influence of something right now.” 

“You wound me Houston. Despite the egregiously errored judgement of others, I am nothing but a shining paragon of virtue.” Julian flicked his hair out of his face as haughtily as he could. 

“Which film is that from?” Dwight said, acting unimpressed. 

“The Just Blade.” Julian laughed. “I auditioned for it before handing it off to one of those Disney kids. I could tell it was a bomb before even finishing the read through. Like, who thinks a medieval film for kids should be set to jazz? Who?” 

“Didn’t it get only 9% approval on Rotten Tomatoes?” Dwight asked. “I only know because they did a terrible representation of druidism, even in its proto-pagan form.” 

“6%” Julian corrected. “It also butchered Kyra Davies’ debut as a director of photography.” 

“Who?” Dwight asked. 

“Exactly.” Julian said. “She kept getting overridden by the directors, but if you go online you’ll see she has a real sight for angles and storytelling.” 

Dwight looked at Julian curiously. “You really do put a lot of thought into what you do don’t you?” 

“No caught me, I’m just coasting on the Hollywood pretty boy image until someone fresher comes along.” He rolled his eyes. “No shit Houston, this is my life.” 

“No, no, no! I get it! I just… you know with the drama club last year everyone was saying you were just being an ego maniac,” Julian frowned but Dwight kept going, “but it’s like me and hunting you know? That’s your thing, nothing else more important than it right?” 

Julian was quiet before nodding, seeing where Dwight was coming from. “Yeah. You’re right. It is like you and your superstitions. Even when people don’t get what it means to you, it’s what you do and nothing can stop you from doing that.” 

Dwight nodded; the ripped toilette in his lap was as bone dry. Red and orange was coming in off the sunset from the open window, tingeing the side of his face as he considered the actor. It was odd, but Julian was becoming more than a little fond of this kid for all the weird things he said. Even if it was just by comparison to the odd way he dressed and his off-beat personal, Dwight had a presence to him that made him feel a little less crazy about how his life was going; more in control. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad on the eyes the more time you spent around him. 

“Although if you ever want to quit this demon hunter dream I could hook you up with an alternative modelling contract- you’ve got the vampire look down pat.” Julian said in the flattest monotone he could muster. 

“I am NOT ever getting anywhere near that business. The mass media’s idea of a vampire is the sparkly one and his brood of emo blasphemers.” Dwight looked more insulted than when the staff had interrupted his salt shipment in front of the entire student body. 

“You know Robert isn’t that bad once you get to know him.” Julian ventured. Dwight was too busy crossing himself and holding onto one of the many pendants around his neck. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it Hollywood.” Dwight said. 

Julian couldn’t help himself from laughing. “You’re pretty cool for a superstitious nutjob.” 

Dwight looked down at Julian, sprawled out on his chair. “You’re not bad for a hedonistic celebrity.” 

The two shared a grin. This was something Julian could handle; it felt easy to tease Dwight, they had a shared history of the barest sense- but also absolutely nothing in common but a passion for a very specific skill set. In a way that was more important. He felt himself understanding the kid more in half an hour than people he’d spent years with- probably because Dwight wore his heart on his sleeve, but would use it to shield anyone. He could get behind that. 

Dwight left to report back to the Universal Park managers, but never really got the answer to his initial questions. He did return with a number of conversational threads that hopefully would be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to MCR


	5. Giving the Academy a Raincheck

After that oddly tender moment in Julian’s trailer, Dwight was left in a strange headspace. He went about his normal routine at the parks; checking in with whichever supervisor he was signed to work with that day. He supposed this would be good practice for when everyone expected him to be Windsor prefect- though that would be a laugh. He’d finally have the house demon proof though with no one to tell him otherwise. 

After a couple hours as a terrible customer service representative, Dwight would salt the seats of a couple rides, leave a crucifix or two in the bathrooms, and then scatter petrified garlic around the walkways before lunch. 

If his mother was free he would usually eat with her in the shareholder’s lounge on the skydeck. He’d go on about how Jeremy in the WWoHP was a corrupt soulless manager, and she would give him a hug and a kiss to calm him down- thanking him for at least attempting to be a good sport about helping with the real family business. She would then leave to rip apart an irresponsible member of senior management without ever raising her voice. Dwight could never be scared of her- she’d pulled ridiculous faces when he was a kid and he’d seen her in pink bunny slippers telling Alan to ‘open up for the airplane.’ Still, she was a formidable woman and he hoped one day to master her steely ‘you know what you did wrong’ glare. 

Usually after lunch he would go back to trying to keep the place from falling apart- usually when someone had vomited on a vendor, or if kids were climbing over barriers while their parent’s weren’t looking. The number of children he had plucked from the fences was astounding. 

Since the Something Damaged cast had set up in Orlando though, things had gotten a little messier. He was glad he wasn’t actually getting paid for this job; otherwise no amount of nepotism could keep him from getting fired for the amount of slacking he was doing now. 

Not that he was bailing on work, but having Julian tagging along to people watch and hang out in the staff lounge was a little distracting. He thought Julian would still have important things to do back on set but apparently his character’s storyline had been downplayed due to injuries. 

Dwight still felt guilty about that- no matter what Julian said to the contrary. Laura had warned him about Adam, and even once she had convinced him he didn’t take action quickly enough. For all his jumping to conclusions had worked in the past, the one time he was cautious was the one time it actually mattered. 

If he had been stronger in taking out Adam back in Hanover House, or even before they uncovered Adam’s shrine, the fire would have never happened, his friends never would have been hurt, and Julian never would have been placed in such a position as he was that night. He hadn’t liked the guy back at school, but getting to know him he found himself respecting the person Windsor had simply dismissed as Logan Wright’s crony. 

“We’re bailing.” Julian interrupted his train of thought, the pile of press releases for a wedding’s photo shoot in front of the Universal globe only half finished. 

“Wait what?” Dwight asked only half paying attention to what Julian was saying. 

“I said, we’re bailing. You’re working too hard on a shitty job you don’t really need to be doing, and I don’t have another scene until tomorrow evening. So you and I are going to see what the hell there is to do around here besides family friendly fun.” Julian said, the sunglasses he had on only emphasising the sly grin spread across his face. 

“I’m not going to any clubs- Lucas tried sneaking us into one once and it ended badly for everyone.” Dwight announced before Julian could even suggest it. 

Julian frowned, “Who’s that?” 

“My cousin.” Dwight explained, “he’d be doing this job too if my aunt wasn’t pushing him towards a full-ride.” 

“Which sport? Football?” 

“Basketball.” Dwight corrected. 

“He’s good?” 

Dwight nodded. “Not that he needs a scholarship, the whole family’s got shares in the park- but proving he could get it would really prove something.” 

“Cool.” Julian said, and the matter was closed. Their conversations seemed to be a lot of threads of that nature- open up and volunteer information, but then someone would decide to stop and change the subject, just like that. It was jarring, but not meant rudely. “Since you don’t really need this job, you can take an early day and entertain a celebrity in-need.” 

Dwight snorted. “In need? Of a lobotomy maybe, my mom-”

“Come on Houston- do I have to break out the Wonderland names? I’m bored, and when I’m bored I wreak havoc. I could make a PR nightmare with a stampeding mob of fans in the main square, so don’t think that I won’t.” 

Dwight imagined a Supernatural level of fans moshing to touch their idol and stood up so fast Julian was forced backwards off the desk he’d been reclined on. “Please don’t wreck the main square. Mom just got the renovations negotiated.” 

Julian smirked, “Excellent, let’s go Mister Houston.” 

“Don’t call me mister, it’s almost as bad as sir!” Dwight protested as Julian tugged him out of the staff lounge. 

“Then stop looking like an authority figure.” He said flicking the navy blue tie Universal had been pushing for management to wear. “Let loose, be a rebel.” 

“I am more of a rebel than you- ask the local PD around my neighbourhood.” Dwight took off the tie anyways, stuffing it into his pocket. “It’s not my fault they started cracking down on uniform last week.” 

“Actually it is your fault; you wore that cloak- which actually smelt authentically medieval.” Julian said whilst rumpling Dwight’s collar to the younger’s distaste. 

Carlos had been halfway down the hall patrolling, and accompanied them over to Carmen in the parking lot who was playing Candy Crush on her iPhone. 

“Going already?” Carmen asked before she saw Dwight being dragged along by Julian with that ‘I need to have fun now’ look. “Oh, okay. Nice to see you Summer Boy.” 

“You still haven’t told me what she means by that nickname.” Dwight said as they got into the car. Carmen started the engine, snickering to herself and Carlos who was looking back through the partition every couple of seconds. 

“I don’t know, probably an ironic thing cause you look like the poster boy of southern gothic.” 

“Yes because I obviously look like the main character in a McCarthy novel- get it together Larson.” Dwight ignored Julian’s impish expression to buckle up in the back of fresh-from-the-dealership car. Julian couldn’t name the vehicle to save his life but if Carlos and Dwight started talking about car specs again he would get Carmen to pull them to the side of the road without regret. 

“I thought The Road would be right up your alley.” Julian said, “The whole father and son travelling cross country thing.” 

“I prefer the brother aspect of Supernatural.” Dwight said too quickly. Julian didn’t comment on that as they pulled out of the parking lot with just a touch too much speed on Carmen’s part.

“Isn’t it based on it though?” The partition was rolled up and the conversation kept going. 

“You’re thinking of On the Road, the Kerouac novel.” Dwight’s inner knowledge of anything that had ever appeared on the SPN Wikipedia was almost impressive if Julian hadn’t met the bad side of fan obsession. Instead it sat as ‘fascinating’. 

“The creators named Sam and Dean after the characters in there. Dean especially who is basically Dean Moriarty- who in turn is basically a fictional version of Neal Cassady.”

Now there was something Julian hadn’t been aware of. In his off time he may not be waving a flag around but he’d been on the “Notable Bisexuals” article on Wikipedia enough to know of the name. Mostly he was there in constant fear someone would stamp his name there without his permission- but also it never hurt to look up who he’d be standing beside if he ever did come out. 

Dwight was still rambling, full geek mode engaged. “There’s also a Ginsberg equivalent in the book- which is insane because it just adds another layer to Castiel’s introduction. Because from there on in you have all this subtext, and the creators realized they wrote themselves into a corner because it’s got to come to some conclusion. But still they’re like ‘oh shit let’s pretend its in fan’s heads’ which is bullshit, some of those screenshots are literally in context, but whatever I’m here for monster hunting so anything else is either a bonus or superfluous I guess.” 

Julian wasn’t sure what he was supposed to get out of the second half of that rant but he hesitantly nodded with a drawn out, “okay….” 

If he looked over Dwight’s shoulder he could see the water of the hundreds of lakes and inlets Florida seemed to boast. Perfect for the yacht and golf clubs, not so perfect if you were trying to not get flooded out. Or on a more personal note keep your hair from frizzing in the humidity. 

“You’re not a Supernatural fan I get it- but seriously, you couldn’t have gotten to know me before you were a guest star?” Dwight joked trying to recapture Julian’s attention if he was going to be ditching work for whatever plan Carmen was driving them towards. 

“Even if I knew you now I wouldn’t have brought you.” Julian took great pride in Dwight’s sputtering. “Would you bring me out ghost hunting?” 

“That’s different.” Dwight tried. 

Julian lowered his sunglasses with a disapproving glare. “It’s not and you know it. You’d have swooned and I would have had to call security because what the hell Houston.” 

“I do not swoon.” Dwight said defensively. Julian was about to use that as another teasing barb, but they suddenly Carmen hit the brakes out of nowhere. The two of them slammed forward in their seat belts, suddenly glad they weren’t in a limo where it probably would have ended up optional. 

Julian found himself at the edge of the seat with Dwight’s arm thrust out in front of his chest like a bar. He’d appreciate the instinct a little more if it didn’t feel like Dwight was a soccer mom and he was a purse. He was a diva, not a diva’s accessory. Dwight was rubbing his shoulder where the seatbelt cut into his front, but both of them were thoroughly confused. 

“Why did we stop?” Julian asked, rolling down the shade and poking his head up to Carmen and Carlos. 

“Traffic jam. Either someone’s gotten into a really shitty accident or the cops are being dicks and stopping everyone up ahead.” Carmen explained, gesturing forward on the roadway. Every car was stopped and there was a number of flashing lights a mile or two down the road. 

“If it was the police there wouldn’t be that many lights. It looks like a travelling carnival, they try to set up around Disneyland and bum off the cheaper tourists.” Dwight remarked before sitting back. “This is going to take a while. They bottleneck everything on the freeway and it’s impossible to get by unless you want your car to get wrecked by assholes squeezing by without signalling.” 

“It can’t be that bad.” Julian said, seeing one lane inching forward despite nowhere to go. 

“I’ve driven in New York- trust me, this is bad.” Dwight shook his head. “I’ll give it forty minutes until we clear the carnival.” 

“Mierda.” Carlos swore, annoyed at his low battery more than anything if they were going to be stuck here for nearly an hour. 

“Si, es estúpido.” Dwight agreeded. 

“Really? Spanish? You’re going to leave me out of this conversation?” Julian asked. 

“Estarías aprender a hablar español- tù has elegido aprender francés mejor.” Dwight had a look on his face that almost made Julian wish he had kept with AP Spanish; almost, because he elected to focus on French because he was going to Cannes for an award nomination, so why not make sure his accent was perfect? 

“Not bad kid, but your grammar is a little off.” Carlos laughed while his sister drummed an idle beat on the steering wheel. 

“You understood me though, right?” Dwight asked him; he’d been trying to practice but he’d always had the weakest Spanish out of his friends. Carlos made a non-comitial grunt. 

Julian rolled his eyes and muttered. “C’est des conneries.” 

“Come on, it’s basically bilingual down here with all the ex-Cubans.” Dwight said, “Even Spanish-only if you want to get into any of the good night market stores. I guess my grammar is why they keep laughing at me.” 

Julian chuckled, imagining Dwight versus a tiny grandmother, arguing over a shrunken head or whatever you bought at a night market. Probably weird herbs and home remedies Dwight would try and foist on the staff room during the summer, and the common room during school. He hadn’t tried to cleanse Julian’s trailer, but only because he’d only been there once. He liked salt and garlic in his food, not on his floor. 

“I wouldn’t know about Cuban, I’m Californian born and raised- but they do make a mean sandwich.” Carlos volunteered before his sister elbowed him. 

Carmen rapped her knuckles on the dashboard, loudly enough to get everyone’s attention. “This traffic is killer, I’m getting us off at the exit and if you want to entertain yourselves it’s not my business how you do it.” 

No one needed to guess who snickered at that, Carmen elbowed him again- this time in the gut. “Grow up. We’ve got to go to the gas station anyways.” 

The sun was still high in the sky when they found a parking spot in the classy off-resort town no one had bothered to check the name of. Clay red tile roofs and white stucco walls lined the streets in that post-war general store vibe, but with trendy boutiques and salons instead of delis and practical services. If the buildings had been pink, green, and orange Julian might have not been able to tell he was away from home.  
There were lakes all around, blue and artificial. But for once it didn’t feel unbearably hot for once, for which the palm trees probably were to be owed thanks. There was even a slight breeze, enough that Julian looked over at Dwight and asked if he needed a scarf. 

“I like the heat.” He shrugged. 

“Explains why this is the most skin I’ve ever seen you flash- very Victorian of you.” Julian said prodding Dwight’s forearm, his black dress shirt rolled to the elbows. It was almost comical how pale the skin there was, Julian knew if he reached out and flipped his wrists up they would be blue and purple tinged. 

“Do you actually like Ohio winters?” Dwight didn’t flinch from Julian’s touch, still sticking by his elbow as they walked. The block of buildings looked lively, but not crowded so hopefully if someone did mob them it wouldn’t be unbearable. 

Julian considered the question. “Not really. But it rains more there” 

“You like rain? Well you’re going to love it later this week, your set is going to be drowned out.” Dwight snorted. 

Julian knew that Florida was famous for rainy weather, hurricanes, typhoons, whatever the real name of it was. He wasn’t looking forward to the destructive force, but the rain- he liked rain. California was basically a step away from a desert the farther into the interior you went, you couldn’t find a good spot to just enjoy it. Once he spent a couple weeks in Seattle, around when he was shooting for Supernatural. There had been so much rain, he spent half his time with his head pressed to the window and the other half standing without an umbrella outside the hotel. The cold was worth it for the feel of the storm on his shoulders. 

“At least I can handle Ohio without twelve parkas.” His retort didn’t barb like it would had they not been spending so much time together. Dwight just shook his head and kept them on a course off the parking lot. 

“You won’t be laughing when I’m the one surviving the winter apocalypse and you’re a famous popsicle.”

“A critically acclaimed popsicle.” Julian corrected, 

Dwight rolled his eyes. “It’s not me you have to convince, it’s the yetis who will be roaming the tundra in the neo-ice age gnawing on your frozen body.” 

“Woah, dark much?” Julian lowered his sunglasses. 

Shrugging, Dwight pushed his sleeves up just to have them fall back to his elbows. “I like to imagine all possibilities in event of an emergency.” 

“But you like me now, I’d be allowed in your super bunker right?” 

“Maybe.” 

Julian hadn’t felt so proud of the half grin on Dwight face. He figured as part of the merry gang of Windsors headed by the twins- there had to be some sort of humour buried in the spiritualist, but he liked to think he was having a positive effect on Dwight’s sarcasm. Dead pan had its uses, but it was for all intensive purposes hard to discern. 

The closest shop was one of those independent coffee houses with ‘artisanal blends’ and vegan cookies. Usually Julian was surprised to find them on the East coast, but they were becoming increasingly trendy. He blamed hipsters. It made it harder to find a good cup of coffee because half of the ‘authentic’ brews were just people messing with a perfectly good bean. Still, coffee. 

Dwight found himself being unwillingly dragged into the coffee shop, which looked malevolent in his opinion. Too sweet, too unassuming. Julian told him he could find horror lurking in a tea cup- and then ordered Dwight a camomile to appease an inner sense of irony. Too bad Dwight preferred tea, it might have been funnier if he’d had Dwight’s trying to scare him with a half-polished glare. 

Julian’s own cup was half cream, with as much sugar as it could absorb without becoming granular. Carlos stood watch outside, but didn’t bat an eye at the light brown cup his boss came out with. Dwight just questioned how a sugar-caffeine high celebrity had become his companion for skipping work. 

“Live a little Houston.” Julian chided, trying to see if he could spot an orange cart for the sheer Floridian-ness of it all. 

“I’ll live a little once I know everyone else can live safe.” Dwight replied, completely serious. “And I can’t do that with you trying to overdose on sugar. You’re worse than my cousins.” 

“The basketball one?” Julian asked between sips. 

“No, his sisters.” 

“Huh.” 

Carmen was a little while on the other side of the road, asking around for where the gas station was. The signage hadn’t been very obvious. Julian could tell it was her because of her sun-bleached hair and dark brown skin- a striking contrast because it was natural, instead of the pumpkin orange some of the extras turned after fake tanning appoinments. 

On all accounts he ought to be lusting after her, or Carlos- great smile. He was glad both of them had decided to stay proffesional with him- Isabelle told him once about the time she’d slept with her private security and the jealousy that occured after management set her up with various Hollywood B-Listers. Not worth it one bit. 

Maybe that was why Julian was actually warming up to Dwight; he knew about Dalton, but wasn’t invested in Julian’s side of what made it so painful. He was on some level a stranger, a stranger outside of the spotlight of Hollywood who wasn’t trying to manipulate Julian for fame, or fortune, or trying to figure out his past to report on it to all his little friends. He could have done that already, but the lack of phonecalls from Kurt or Reed or even the twins (who texted cat gifs at him occasionally) told him otherwise. 

To put it simply, Dwight was strange. Like a breath of fresh air to his hectic life- well a whirlwind of energy and indignant sqwakes into his hectic life- but it worked. 

“Okay no, you’ve got to try these. Your bodyguard was right these are too good.” Dwight stopped them outside a painted window advertising Cuban food. 

“The sandwiches?”

“Do you know how much I missed these at Dalton?” Dwight asked, not expecting an answer. “It’s like you Californians and avocados.” 

“You badmouth avocados and I’m leaving you in the middle of nowhere.” Julian threatened as Dwight opened the door, letting him go first. 

“We’re like half an hour from Universal... “ Julian rolled his eyes, hoping Dwight wasn’t serious. 

The interior of the place was orange tile and white walls, with bright green menus next to the ceiling. It looked a little run down, but Dwight was right- with the proximity to the theme parks they probably saw more business than they let on. Considering there were a few people eating inside, and it was typically what was called ‘slow time’ on a weekday, it was probably impossible to see the counter on a weekend. 

The girl behind the counter had green streaks in her hair, not really looking at either of them as she tapped the POS with a bored expression. “Welcome to Casa del Tangos, how may I help you?” 

“Two of the-” Dwight paused, looking to see what it was on the board so he wouldn’t have to repeat himself a hundred times. “Cuban originals?” 

Julian just found it amusing how Dwight was fiddling with the thing wallet in his pocket between looking at the girl and the menu. He was definitely one of those people who triple checked the pronunciation of ‘jalapeno’ before ever ordering a taco. 

She asked another series of modifier questions, while the sandwich was being prepped and Dwight stuck out more change than necessary. The girl looked up to give them back their change before her mouth dropped. 

“Woah you’re-” 

Julian sighed and was about to open his mouth to do his typical spiel when meeting fans- but before he could:

“-that guy who did the sick SPN videos on Youtube.” 

Julian blinked- Dwight grabbed his change. “Uh yeah. Thanks.” 

As awkward as he sounded, the girl kept going. “Like, I thought it was just me- like I’m only halfway through- but no legit you totally summarized how much of a dick Satan really was. Funny? Hell yeah, but dude I had no idea those like, literary connections. Like who even is Milton? But no joke, I love your meta videos.” 

Dwight looked caught between running away and smiling, which gave him a rather pained look on his face. Julian wasn’t laughing but he wanted to, the girl’s quick talking manner at odds with how folded up Dwight had made himself. 

“That’s not… the Satan video was actually about… uh I’m glad you like them.” He looked over at Julian like he could help; he just shook his head innocently, letting Dwight squirm at the attention. 

The sandwiches were ready on the counter, crisp and toasted in a plain paper bag. Dwight practically fell over himself to grab them. The girl wasn’t done with him yet however. 

“It’s so good to know there are actually like guys in the fandom, I mean like no straight guys but hey I’m all for mixing it up. It’s hot either way.” 

Before Julian had been perfectly fine to see Dwight suffering with unwanted attention; it made a nice change from himself getting the fan mobbing, and for it to happen to Dwight for something as inane as a Youtube video was pretty funny. Especially since it looked like the girl didn’t get whatever he was doing; like when a reviewer hadn’t watched the film and thought they could wing it, it annoyed him but on Dwight it was hilarious. 

Red crept up Dwight’s face as the girl started to talk about specific characters, something about a ‘destiel’; phrasing everything as if Dwight wasn’t straight. It made Julian want to leave just as much as Dwight seemed to. He didn’t want to see how long it would be before Dwight started in on the “I’m not gay” shit. Which was fine, be who you are and all that, but Julian was not in the mood to hear those kind of assertions: “I’m straight” or “I’m not gay”, he wasn’t sure which was worse. 

“Let’s go.” Julian said shortly, cutting Dwight off. He’d have grabbed him but he still had his coffee in his hand, ready to crush if the girl needed a sign he was getting agitated. 

The girl, her mood brightened considerably from the bored look before still didn’t get the message. “Oh my god, my friends will not believe I met you today- can I get a pic? Your bf can totally take it right?” 

Julian clenched his teeth and took a breath. That was it. Dwight was lucky he didn’t want this girl assuming even more, so he didn’t take off his glasses and throw a loud hissy fit like he wanted to. Instead he smiled kindly, and stepped a little closer to the counter so that only she and Dwight would hear him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be working? Some of us actually have places to be, sorry.” He tossed his cup, still a third way full with coffee, towards the garbage bin and it bounced out onto the floor. 

“Oops.” 

The girl was staring at Julian dismayed. Her green streaks seeming to dull as she looked at the puddle of sugary-coffee she would have to mop up. Dwight was halfway to the door before anything else could happen. 

“Have a nice day.” The door didn’t close nearly as hard as Julian hoped it would when he stalked out. 

The pulled pork, onions, and melty cheese in a thin toasted crust didn’t make up for Julian’s foul mood. Carlos and Dwight were right, it was good; but that girl’s comments had just riled him up. How dare she label it as ‘hot’. Why was her view so black and white? And why could Dwight get to confirm or deny whatever she was assuming, and he had no option but to deny, deny, deny? 

For a minute Dwight was quiet, which would have been wise to keep doing. But half of his sandwich was finished already, and some people didn’t know when to let sleeping dogs lie. 

“That was kind of a dick move.” Dwight said, “With the coffee I mean. Her job is probably really crappy and you made it a lot harder.” 

Julian stopped eating. “Yeah well she’s a crappy person and she pissed me off.” 

“She was just a slash fangirl, she didn’t mean anything bad by it.” Dwight tried to explain, the red in his cheeks still not completely gone. 

“Yeah, that’s it. I’m pissed because she’s into whatever new baity couple that show’s cooked up. I guest starred once, I get it, it’s great for ratings without having to set up a long reaching arc. But you didn’t have to play into her shit.” Julian’s eyes were cold, not looking at him as he spoke. 

“Pl- how did I play into it? I didn’t say anything. I literally was trying to get us out of there but she kept talking.” Dwight asked indignantly. 

“You just, you know.” Julian waved a hand dismissively. He didn’t want to straight up tell Dwight what he was thinking. He just sighed. “You’re straight you wouldn’t get it.” 

“Who’s making assumptions now?” 

That caught Julian’s attention, gaze snapping up to look at Dwight. He pushed that pate incident out of his mind as soon as it entered. He wasn’t hearing this. 

“You’re kidding me right now.” Julian said. If this became a grand coming out scene from a bad MTV show he’d leave right now. 

“Have I ever told you I was?” Dwight shrugged. “I mean it’s the closest term but not completely accurate.” 

“You and Hendricks totally got it on didn’t you?” Somehow that was what popped into his head. He liked the way the flush went up to Dwight’s temples; he had a pretty good read on the kid now to guess that was maybe halfway accurate. 

“You’re incredible.” Dwight didn’t mean it as a compliment; Julian took it as one anyways. 

“I’d do it again though. No matter who you want to go bang Houston. She’s just another one of those people who’d label you without even asking, assuming things, putting you in a box.” Julian took another bite out of his sandwich. “Sure maybe I’m a hypocrite; but it makes me feel better.” 

“Isn’t letting assholes annoy you just another way they win?” Dwight asked, finishing off his sandwich. “I thought you didn’t care what people think?” 

Julian pressed his lips together in a tight line. Don’t try getting into this Houston, he thought. If things weren’t more complex than that he’d have given up on repression a long time ago. Unicorns would be prancing around LA to Lady Gaga lyrics. And maybe he’d be returning Logan’s calls. None of that was true though. 

“It isn’t that easy.” 

“That’s bullshit, but okay.” Dwight’s sigh was audible. Julian wasn’t sure what he was trying to get out of the conversation, but he wasn’t forcing answers. That at least was a pleasant turn of events. If it wasn’t the fun afternoon of hijinks he’d been planning. 

Julian took a minute more to finish the sandwich; Dwight sitting quietly at his side. If he wanted to read into it, he’d spot how closely Dwight was sitting with arms tucked in between his knees. The crisp dark fabric of the Universal dress pants cutting a handsome line against Julian’s pale blue jeans. He wished the girl had just been another apathetic under-aged employee without hope or hobbies. 

“You know, you’ve got to show me your Youtube sometime.” 

“No.”

He laughed; he’d find it anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Imagine Dragons


	6. Hard to Know Where the Line Is

After Carmen and Carlos flashed the headlights to call them back to the car it was a quick trip back to the lot. Dwight was dropped off to thirteen frantic text messages and two voice mails on his phone- which had been left on the desk in the staff lounge. 

Before going, Julian was treated to the floor show which was Agatha Houston being flawless. Or at least in Julian’s opinion. He had never seen the woman before, but it was obvious who she was through the family resemblance: Dark curls with hints of grey, straight nose, the same deep brown eyes, all put together in a pearl necklace and navy blazer. Dwight’s mother was beautiful and powerful, a bit like his own but with less of the glamour and more practicality in her stance. You could see her leading a board meeting, not waving on a red carpet to a thousand strangers. 

It was subtle, but the guilt trip she pulled made him a little jealous of the control over her own emotions. A single tear in the corner of her eye did so much, telling Dwight how utterly worried she was when he didn’t even tell anyone he was taking off. She was left to field a number of supervisors who wanted to know where their support staff had gone. Why would you leave this on her? Concern and scolding all wrapped up in disapproving grace- now that was how you made a teenaged boy work for your corporation instead of bumming off all summer. 

If he didn’t prefer letting Dwight bear the brunt of the worry he would have shaken her hand. But to have her glare aimed at him? No thank you. 

He didn’t regret pulling Dwight away from work; but their stuttered misadventure was not the best note to end on. He did enjoy himself- all except for that girl souring his mood. And he didn’t know what to make about that ‘not completely accurate’ comment. 

When he returned to his trailer, he had a Skype call waiting. It was another potential director Julian was looking to interview; so they spent a good hour going over what they thought the artistic vision for the script (in progress) would become. The man was ten years his senior but with a cohesive vision of loneliness to satisfaction- built off angles, music, and a pastel colour palette contrasting with jewel tones in emotionally charged scenes. It was a good interview, not the best. He had a woman with a mid-western sensibility who had shot documentaries for musicians before; but she was currently being asked to do a indie short film in Connecticut, so if that appealed more to her artistic preferences this would probably be his director. 

People might think he was always the first choice, the award winner, the top of the list. They didn’t realize how much effort and time he put into this industry, and even his father casting him at a young age didn’t open every door. For every success, there were handfuls of failures- to say he was used to being second best wasn’t completely inaccurate. 

Julian made himself the best, he got handed a lot of things but not anything that mattered. He’d specifically told his father to stay out of his film. While he knew it’d be easier to run this production with his father’s advice, this film was his. 

The script was nearly finished according to the email from his writing team; and his casting director (selected from a previous television gig) already had a line up of leads ready to go over. The budget was being tweaked by the accountants, but Julian shot them another line about not cutting costs on catering- if he had to attend shooting dates without a properly stocked cooler and craft services table he’d scream. Hopefully if they got the grant from the LA Film Board there would even be enough for a bonus if the film did well. 

He was halfway through the pile of production letters when a knock on his door shook him out of his thoughts. 

“You still up?” Clark’s unassuming voice asked. Julian’s grimace at being interrupted faded, pushing the throw cushions on the sofa around so Clark could sit down next to him. The iPad was still resting on the pull out table, but it could wait for a minute. 

“Yeah, how was set?” 

Clark settled in beside his friend, leaning back comfortably. It was easy between the two of them. Small sentences, bite sized questions answered non-verbally through eye rolls, pointed looks, and suggestive shrugs. 

“Good, I got another arc finished. Hopefully Matthew won’t be wallowing for long. It’s not much fun to play the third week in a row.” Clark admitted. 

Julian shook his head, “an actor who doesn’t like doing sad scenes. They’re so much more challenging though.” 

“Only because it’s not realistic for such a nice guy like Matthew to not look on the bright side after three weeks.” Clark said, smiling to himself. 

“Some might accuse you of playing yourself.” 

He chuckled. “I guess. I miss having a lot of scenes with you though.” 

Julian nodded, “Me too. But they’re amping up the drama, more action scenes, that big mall chase, more sex scenes than ever before. I may be legal to go ass out but-”

“The doctors said. It’s okay.” Clark understood. “It’s better than the producers having a fit if you fell on set and their insurance wouldn’t pay it all out. Then they’d be out a famous face.” 

“I’m starting to get the anxiety though.” Julian said, shifting his stack of paperwork to a neater pile on the table. 

“Right.” Clark tilted his head, considering Julian’s tight shoulders and stiff wrists. “You don’t have to be an active producer, just set the budget and let them go with it.” 

Julian frowned. “You know I can’t put my name on something and not be involved.” 

“Artistic integrity, I know.” Clark said. He brushed his blond hair out of his face with an easy smile. “You’re enjoying yourself in your free time?” 

It was left hanging that Julian had been escaping set to go to the parks, he was spending a lot of time ‘annoying Houston’; which is what he called it in his head. It was a nice hobby. He didn’t know what Dwight called it- probably ‘avoiding responsibilities’. 

“Yeah. Mostly.” Julian said. 

“I’m glad.” Clark placed a hand on his shoulder; Julian leant his cheek onto it. Things were so easy with Clark; why couldn’t all his friendships be so uncomplicated? 

They spent a couple minutes in silence, sitting there on the couch until they heard someone calling for Clark. He sighed, work calling. He looked down at Julian, eyeing the papers on the table with apprehension. “You need anything, just text me okay? 

“I will.” Julian said before Clark left. 

Things would be simpler if everyone was a little more like Clark. But then again that’s what made Clark so special, he was one of a kind. 

Julian thought back to when Dwight had ambushed them on the carpet, how he’d told Clark something about Reed. It made sense the two of them were related, even through a step-dad. He wondered if Van Kamp would show up on Haven’s tour to visit with Clark. It’d make for an interesting get together. 

Van Kamp was one of the ones who hadn’t gotten off easily from the fire. Sure physically he was fine, some of his falls rivalling the stippled burns and slight smoke damage to his lungs; mentally Reed was probably grasping at straws. He had never been malicious towards Stuart; and the Dormouse as the twins had christened him was an amazing artist, Julian wondered if he’d ever tried his hand at film- he’d probably make a great director of photography. 

Not that he wanted to work with Reed, but he- well… this train of thought was getting depressing. He looked back at his pile of paperwork and pressed his hand to his head. He should sleep. If Clark knew he was up half the night worrying about things that were out of his control, and all the things that were, he’d be disappointed. He hated that feeling. 

There was a hotel room booked for the cast, but Julian hadn’t felt the urge to go there unless they were shooting nearby. He had the sofa set up as a convertible bed with blankets to curl into. 

When he fell asleep his thoughts were filled with disjointed thoughts; images of his protagonist playing to a sold out stadium, a white painted row of stores, and a red mouth muttering something about moms. It was not an easy night; but he’d wake to something better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to The Switchblade Kittens


	7. At the Bottom of the Swimming Pool

If you had to ask, Julian wasn’t sure how the day had ended up how it did. One too many drinks and suddenly half his friends and coworkers were being questioned by police in their underwear- bras and boxers on display. Clark was the only one who seemed slightly coherent, explaining to the local girls who had joined them that no, this was not the appropriate time for sushi.

Julian wanted to hit something when Cameron started asking if he needed a lawyer- if this got into the news… but no, he was already hiding and there was no way he could leave now. His pants were on the other fence, hung by a hook in the belt loop. And he had Dwight pressed up against his back, muttering about necromancy. He was getting them both wet with the water dripping from his sopping hair.

The start of the day had such promise; a great few scenes in the suburbs with Marcie, shooting darts with Carlos, meeting some fans who had mentioned they found a nice coffee shop through Instagram. Like he said, a good day.

Trouble came in the form of Patrick their resident party guy, who at the tender time of his life devoted himself and the fame he’d accrued to get as many weird and funny stories printed about himself. Like the time he’d been involved with something about Madonna’s boyfriend and a monkey. And this brand of fun, he liked to share as often as possible. This meant after shooting ending, he burst into every trailer and announced they were going out as a cast tonight. To quote him they were ‘throwing it down’. What ‘it’ was no one was quite sure.

Natasha and Isabelle got him to back down though; their own schedules demanding them to be up at six, and seven the next morning respectively. Anyone on set knew the makeup teams were vicious when their cast came in with dark circles, but Isabelle especially had received warning about it. The rest had their own excuses, some declining altogether, but at least going out to eat couldn’t hurt. So instead of the trolling of Orlando’s nightlife for the rich and famous it was a dressed down outing- more relaxed. Cameron and Nathan’s security detail were the ones to be brought along, and no one had their ‘signature’ looks on. Even when they looked sufficiently ‘normal’ though, they still were an unavoidably gorgeous group of people.

The sun hadn’t set yet, the early evening drifting lazily across the sky- teasing the horizon. Isabelle’s protests about staying up late were looking pretty weak- though everyone knew the lighting was deceiving. Julian joined in poking fun at Izzy without any real malevolence. The cast was like a second family to them all, especially those who had been brought up inside show business without a conventional sense of ‘normal’. You would play it on tv, or audition for it, or fake it in interviews but none of them really were. Those were the side effects of fame.

And in that tradition of not being normal, it surprised them all that Patrick stopped them in front of a freaking dive bar.

“Fighting Stars Cantina.” Isabelle read in disbelief as she got out of the car. “Don’t tell me that’s a damn Star Wars reference. You did not bring us to a Star Wars bar.”

“A common misconception but I would never let you go to a nerd bar without a proper uniform.” He flicked his eyes to her. She was in black jeans and a floaty shirt, practically a hobo outfit from her casually glamorous appearance earlier in the day. He would have at least let her put on lipstick if they were going to stun the kind of people who worked in a Star Wars bar- lipgloss would have to do to blow the wait staff away.

“The sign says since 1966, so I think it’s just a coincidence.” Clark smiled. Everyone felt calm. Julian wondered if he could get Clark to teach him that.

Marcie, in her tackiest zebra print yoga pants sighed. “That would have been funny as hell.”

“I knew some people wouldn’t want to get papped doing illegal things, so the kids can party without everyone’s PR managers breathing down our necks.” Patrick gave a wink to Julian, without venom but it still didn’t feel as casual as if Cameron or Marcie said it.

“Kids, yes. Because you’re that much older than me. Of course.” Julian replied dryly.

“Did you google which bars in Orlando don’t check ID or do you just have the business cards on hand?” Isabelle asked, grimacing at the chipped paint on the doorframe.

“I know some guys.” Patrick left it at that.

The interior hadn’t capitalized on the franchise which shared its name- but instead had its own logo of a sword and a star emblazoned on the wall. There was also a highly stylized 1980s metal poster with a woman who was clearly stylized as an anthropomorphic star fighting strange yellow birds- but it was near the door so you could walk by quickly. Everything else looked like it had been remodelled fairly recently, but the interior designer seemed to have only looked at magazines from before the turn of the millennia.

“This is a dump.” Marcie announced bluntly. “I love it.”

It was dark in the corner they chose, at a large square table with room for seven. The waitress who came up to them was in the right age range to have recognized them, but she blissfully rattled off specials without a flicker of recognition. She had a couple of other groups, making the place lively but not rowdy.  
“So give you guys a minute, or a pitcher for the table?” She didn’t ask even one of them to flash ID.

“Surprise us; it’s been a good day.” Nathan said with a quick smile; he was leaning forward, not flirting as Natasha was right there. The waitress must have appreciated it, he was easier to deal with than some customers she’d had that night.

“Water for the saint over here.” Patrick said, with what he probably intended to be a good natured smile, but just ended up a good deal condescending. Clark didn’t look like he minded it, but Julian was frowning anyway.

“One raspberry twist for me.” Marcie said, “with an umbrella.”

Cameron looked over at her, “Really?”

Marcie shrugged, “You want one?”

He laughed, “Why not?”

“Alright a big one, two twists, and a water.” The waitress said with a smile before disappearing to the back.

It was a good deal more pitchers and twists later that most of them were getting loud; laughing and teasing one another loudly over the amount of wing sauce that had ended up on their faces. The cast had attracted glances from other tables, but thankfully no one connected the dots.

A trio of young women, locals apparently, had joined them. Patrick was flirting with one of them, another was asking Natasha how she got her hair so shiny. They were pretty nice, and one of them was already sidling up to Julian- he bought her a drink anyways, she seemed nice enough as she talked his ear off about the orange grove her dad owned as another three pitchers were drained by the table.

Natasha had gotten enough ranch dressing on her upper lip for Marcie to snap a photo on her phone, sending it to everyone at the table immediately. In solidarity Nathan copied her and tugged her in tight to take a photo of the two of them. Clark snorted; Natasha started shrieking with laughter when Nathan kissed her cheek, dressing everywhere.

Isabelle was showing the local girls, Marcie, and Julian a photo she had snapped of Cameron with a spot of sauce in his eyebrow. None of them were quite sure how he’d managed that. Another pitcher was drained, and a few orange juices with an odd combination of alcohol had been brought out as well. Julian found himself laughing at increasingly unfunny jokes. If the waitress had actually cared about IDs, the entire table would probably be more like Clark, amused but sober.

“I’m still not sure why you chose this place Patrick; it’s not even open that late.” Natasha said, snapping down on another carrot stick from the wing pile. She missed a couple ‘t’s in her sentence.

“Well…” Patrick said slowly, “I wasn’t planning for us to be gone from the lot too long. I was kind of hoping we could get a little wrecked, then Julian’s little friend could you know… get us in after hours to all the rides at Universal.”

“Wait what.” Julian looked up from Isabelle’s phone. “What friend?” Conversation slowed to look between the two of them; plastic menus and an awkward blend of blues and top 40s playing in the background not helping any awkward silence.

“You have a friend at Universal Parks? Cool.” The local girl next to Julian said, sounding more moon-shy than anything else. Julian hoped she didn’t fall off her chair.  
Patrick tried again, “Um, you know. That goth kid, the one who works at the park or something… he’s like, hanging around or something.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “’Rick, the guy probably isn’t even there right now. And as if he’d have the keys to the backdoor to let us in.”

“Isn’t he like, a shareholder’s kid though?” Nathan asked.

“How do you all know this?” Julian asked, wondering if someone’d slipped something in his drink. This made no sense.

“It sounds really cool, hanging out in the theme parks after hours. We could go on a rollercoaster without anyone gawking when we jump the lines.” Marcie sighed, thinking the idea through a bit.

“Jumping lines is like mega rude.” One of the local girls said.

“Clark help me out here.” Julian said, head clear enough to know it wouldn’t end well.

Clark wasn’t helpful.

“Well, if anyone could get us in I’m sure he could. If I know anything about Reed’s housemates he’d probably think it was funny.”

“Windsor’s ideas of funny usually involves fire extinguishers, fifteen pounds of gumballs, and some kind of automatic non-lethal weapons.” Julian replied, “How are we debating this?”

“Wow, that place sounds wild. Why don’t you talk more about that school of yours?” Marcie asked, working on her third twist, the umbrella fallen out onto the table beside her chin. She was picking at Julian’s watch which was more decorative than practical.

Natasha hissed, “Marcie. You know why.”

The silence would have gotten awkward had Patrick waited to grab Julian’s phone. They had stacked all the cells on the table as the first to answer a phone call paid for the food. Nathan murmured something about Patrick volunteering to cover the bill when he picked up the phone, but only Natasha heard him. Patrick didn’t care about whatever consequences as he scrolled through Julian’s contacts. Who even knew how he unlocked the phone so quickly.

“Hey, stop that. Give it back.” Julian exclaimed reaching across the table but Patrick just leaned back until he saw the name close enough to what Clark had mentioned.

“Houston right?” Patrick asked, hitting speakerphone as the dialtone rang.

It might just be how much everyone had drunk, but Julian was not going to give Patrick a free pass on this. He only had that number because Carmen had insisted she needed it in case the kid went rouge. Dwight insisted that he wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it, but dutifully programmed it into Julian, Carlos, and Carmen’s phones. He wasn’t ever planning to use it- well maybe to send a prank photo of a ghost if he ever got totally bored on set, but for him and his cast to drunkenly call out of the blue? He was probably home already anyways, it was pretty late-

“Hello?” Dwight’s voice sounded very far away through speakerphone.

“Hey goth kid!  
“Clark take the phone away from him- Patrick I swear-” Julian said, trying to get some help.

Dwight was confused. “Uh, Julian? Is that you? What’s going on?”

A scuffle broke out over the phone- the local girls giggling as Clark plucked the phone out of Patrick’s hands, but got it stolen by Cameron who was curious as to who the kid their castmate had been hanging around.

“You Houston?” Cameron asked, holding the phone high enough everyone could hear. There was a crackle. Isabelle snatched the phone from Cameron before anyone could hear the muffled reply.

“Here,” she said, tossing the phone back to Julian who was glaring at Patrick.

“Ignore them. They’re drunk and Patrick thought he’d steal my phone.” Julian explained- still on speakerphone.

“You are as drunk as all of us except the Saint.” Cameron pointed out. Julian shrugged; he was sitting down, no one could tell- he could hold his alcohol well. The local girl at his elbow was stealing sips from his drink though- he didn’t mind pushing the rest of it towards her.

“They? I recognized Clark but-”

“My cast, they seem to be under the impression you’d want to sneak a bunch of bored celebutauntes past after hours security.”

“Celebrity?” The girl at Julian’s elbow seemed confused. Thank god for alcohol.

“It’d be a solid!” Patrick called out, leaning across the chicken wings to shout into the phone. Julian could practically hear Dwight jump out of fright.

“Yeah, please!” Marcie pleaded, tugging Julian’s hand closer to her so she could talk into the cell- her voice higher pitched than normal on her third twist.

“Uh, I could get in a lot of trouble for doing that- I mean, I’m staying late to check the closing procedures before my day off, but still- you can’t just sneak people in, otherwise Sadie and Morgan would alread-”

“Wait, you’re still there?” Clark interrupted, surprised.

“Uh, yeah… my mom-”

“Then just blame an intern or something.” Patrick chimed in.

Apparently no one wanted to let Dwight finish what he was saying.

“Live a little- we just want to walk around for a bit. Like we can go anywhere without being mobbed.” Natasha said. Julian shot her a look.

“Just leave the door open, you’re there anyways. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Patrick said, leaving a fistful of cash down on the table for the waitress. He was slurring his words a bit, it was kind of funny.

Julian rolled his eyes, everyone suddenly going along with the plan. Clark pushed them all out of the Cantina, Julian switching the phone back to normal settings.

“Are you going to explain what exactly is happening?” Dwight asked.

“I think Patrick’s decided you’re letting us into the park after hours. I don’t think either of us have a choice in the matter. Otherwise they all might just try to sneak in anyways and make it a trending topic. I think its better we just let them walk around.” Julian said, Clark letting him lean on him as they walked out towards the cars- their guards in the driver’s seats thankfully.

“I still haven’t agreed to this.” Dwight said with inflection either nervous or thoughtful- Julian couldn’t tell between the fuzziness of the phone and his own head.

“Well I’m coming, sounds like it could be fun.” Julian said.

“You’re really just all going to show up and make a scene if I don’t sneak you in?” Dwight asked.

Julian looked at the others piling into the car around him. “Yeah.”

Dwight sighed. “This is what they get for putting a teenager in charge of closing operations I guess. I just want to go home and watch Curse Breakers.”

“Instead you’re partying with celebrities. I think Patrick has his own stash.” Julian noted, looking through the window to where Patrick was passing something around in the other car before they left the parking lot.

“What if I just didn’t let you in?” Dwight asked.

“Are you leaving right now?”

“No, why?”

“Your car is pretty distinctive; I bet we could find it before you got outside.” Julian smirked when Dwight launched into a rant about the sacred bond of a person and their car. He was lucky that his snark was intact even with a good amount of alcohol in his system.

“I’m not getting out of this am I?” Dwight said finally.

“No.” Julian leant into Clark’s shoulder, his sober friend patting his arm and letting him snuggle closer. “I know enough good lawyers if your mom really wants to kill you.”

He knew a lot of people who gave that kind of a long suffering sigh Dwight replied with. Usually he counted them as his friends for a lot longer before they started using it in conversations. A couple weeks, a new record he supposed.

“Call me when you get here.” Click.

\---  
Julian had taken a gulp of whatever that stuff Patrick was offering him when they got out of their cars. Might as well, the trip was short and he was going to sneak around an amusement park without crowds of people. It was going to be fun right?

The staff door had been propped open- Dwight poking his head out disapprovingly. If he was being so judgemental, why was he even letting them in? Julian’s rational mind was drunk though, so it didn’t keep him going on that train of thought.

Dwight gave them all a lecture that he didn’t even watch their show so this wasn’t a fan thing, this was a ‘probably wouldn’t hear the end of it if they all passed out on the premises’ and he was the last one there at night. Granted there was a cleaning crew but they didn’t get to this half of the park until around 4am.

They came in, ducking through the corridors into the main park with Dwight grumbling at a couple of intoxicated celebrities- save Clark, who was there to make sure they didn’t take photos of it- well at least not any photos that would be too detrimental.

Patrick had revealed who they were to the trio of girls, who had taken the hint to flock to the sides of the single guys. Except for the one who had stolen Julian’s drink, she was drawing out her vowels in a strange sort of drawl to Izzy, asking a million questions with a big grin. He should get the name of that one, she seemed nice.

Most of the SD cast was pretty cordial to Dwight, but mostly treated him like some random staff member rather than someone Julian had befriended. They were running (or stumbling) forward without more than a thank you. It wasn’t like Julian’d ever mentioned his name in anything other than in connection to the park though, they probably were drunk enough to have forgotten the anecdote about Windsors. Though logically they all knew Dwight and Julian had been at Dalton, but only Clark really knew more.

Weirdly it was the local girls who the nicest to Dwight, one yammering on about something like her dad’s oranges, or roadside stand, who knew. Julian wondered if this was one of those weird Florida things he’d never understand- avocadoes to oranges maybe.  
The main square the staff corridors opened onto a teacup ride and spinning top lane. A few rollercoaster loomed motionless in the distance, with a number of silent vendors stalls in closed rows. It would have been eerie if the silence wasn’t punctuated with Marcie’s shrieks of glee, or Nathan picking Natasha up to carry her over a spilled ice cream cone. They were all acting like children- really drunk children.  
Clark, occupied in conversation with one of the drunk locals, had to be abandoned as a walking support so Julian chose to walk by Dwight; who was pursing his lips, nervously looking around for any sign of the cleaning crew or someone who would rat them all out.

“Relax Houston, just let us run around and then we’ll be out of your hair.” Julian said, Dwight admonishing him with a glance.

“Yeah, well tell that to my mom when she kills us all.”

Julian laughed. “You really do worry too much. Breathe man.”

“Man? What am I, your bro or something?” Dwight asked.

Julian paused. “Uh, no. I just think your mom would probably think all that occult stuff is more dangerous than running around with drunk celebrities.”

“She’s known my team longer than your show has even existed.” Dwight countered.

The girls climbed over the fence of a teacup ride, trying in vain to get the teacups to turn without the ride powered up. Patrick tripped trying to follow them over the fence; he didn’t succeed in jumping it, but he did get one of them to coo over his bruised pride. Cameron and Clark helped him up laughing.

Julian snorted as the display before replying to Dwight. “Yeah well I figured it wouldn’t be too bad- I mean I didn’t want them bugging you but-”

“Oh, so you now care about annoying me?” Dwight raised his brow, unconvinced. “After you practically stalked me all this week at my job.”

Julian stiffened, his voice went low. “I think you and I have vastly different ideas about what stalking is.”

“Shit, sorry. That’s, yeah, okay.” Dwight’s ears went red, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I know what you meant.” Julian sighed. He didn’t want to ruin this outing, he was having fun before Dwight put his foot in his mouth. Then again, Dwight did that a lot.

“I’m not good with words I guess-” Dwight said before Patrick cut him off, colliding between the two of them with one of the crappy beers he’d brought in with them.

“Come on kid, have one on me- a big thanks for breaking us into the joint.” Patrick said, pushing one of them into Dwight’s hand.

Julian rolled his eyes. “Accept it or he won’t leave you alone.”

Patrick gave a whoop when Dwight started drinking along with the rest of them; and then went off to wreck havoc on some ferns with Isabelle.

“You’re going to get trashed like the rest of us right?” Julian asked. He wasn’t sure which answer he’d prefer.

“Only way to deal with the twins, only way to deal with you lot.” Dwight sighed.

“Just don’t become an alcoholic by eighteen aren’t you?” Julian laughed, elbowing Dwight as they found their way to a large fountain where Clark had already been pushed in, with Marcie splashing around with her shoes off.

“You’re all idjits.” Dwight muttered.

“Huh?”

Dwight rolled his eyes. “Just…. Whatever.”

“Okay.”

There was more alcohol Patrick seemed to produce from seemingly random places. By the time someone was being dared to walk the length of a silent rollercoaster Dwight wasn’t cursing various deities and covering his eyes. He was just cursing.

“Look, I’m doing it!” Marcie whooped, her arms out balancing on the track close to the ground. The dip of the coaster came close enough Clark had helped her up; she was doing quite well.

“Like hell are you going to win.” Cameron said, on the bar next to her attempting to race badly. Julian was just sitting below, laughing as Cameron started to wobble and just flopped off with a graceless thud.

The local girls giggled, one of them clutching Isabelle’s arm and they laughed together. Julian was finishing off one of the many, many bottles Patrick had pressed into his hands. It was a cool night, and seeing his friends act like idiots was turning out to be more fun than he expected.

“I can go faster! Look!” Marcie picked up her pace, a mock model’s walk as the track sloped higher.

Clark looked up worried, “Don’t go too fast, don’t hurt yourself!”

“Don’t worry Clarkie- I got iT!” She shrieked; her foot slipped. Marcie’s arms windmilled, and the group gasped as she fell off the edge of the track.

“I got you!” Dwight yelled, leaping up from where he was leaning on one of the support beams. It was like a cartoon, how he snatched Marcie from the fall before she hit the ground. They tumbled into a pile- bruised but safe.

Marcie grinned, on top of Dwight gracelessly with his arms around her waist where he caught her. “Thanks park boy.”

Dwight flushed, letting go of her and putting his hands up like he’d been caught doing something bad. “Uh, no problem.”

“Are you okay Marcie?” Cameron and Nathan helped her up, concerned. Dwight lay there a little dazed until Clark hauled him to his feet.

“I’m good, like super good.” Marcie grinned. “That was fun, can I do it again?”

The chorus of “NO!” made her pout. Julian liked that about Marcie, she always had a positive outlook on things- even when she as utterly wrong.

Marcie turned to Dwight with a smile, kissing him on the cheek, “That was real sweet of you.”

Dwight turned redder than he had before, letting his fringe fall in front of his face. “Really, it was no problem.”

“You really do have a ‘saving people’ thing don’t you Houston?” Julian snarked a little too meanly.

Dwight shrugged before Clark suggested they get going before someone else got hurt. The girls agreed, the guys following their sober ringleader. Cameron was supporting Marcie on one side while she was clinging to Dwight’s arm, chattering in his ear about a string of things. He smiled and answered nicely; said something about his friend Sadie ‘might like you Marcie’. Julian didn’t pretend he was happy about it- he just ignored them and spent his walk next to Izzy.

The local girls who had joined them now took the time to get interested in Julian again, complimenting him, touching his hair like drunk girls tended to do. The attention was nice; even though the whole point of sneaking into the park is that they’d get to hang out without getting fawned over. What could he say? He liked attention- positive attention anyways.

They had found a vending machine a couple of blocks back that Nathan had almost gotten his arm stuck in. He was trying to get a bag of chips for Natasha. Luckily it didn’t get stuck, or calling the late night crew would have definitely given the whole game away.

After that, one local girl walking with them, the one who had attached herself to Isabelle, had finally revealed her name: Jess. She had fluffy black curls and was doing the same hair-touching thing as her friends. Only it was to Isabelle, who was reserved but accepting of the attention. However, Julian was starting to get a vibe from Jess that it wasn’t that casual girl bonding. He wondered if he should tell Izzy to let the pretty queer girl down easy. Unless he wasn’t the only closet case in the cast, in which case go for it. Isajess- Jessabel- Jezebel- huh, he was far too drunk for this. The fans must be getting to him if he was making portmanteaus.

By the time they had crossed to the side of the park that backed onto hotels, the largest part of Julian’s buzz had worn off. However for the rest of them, they had finished off Patrick’s stash and were ready to keep going on their adventurous misadventures.

“Oh my god, is that a pool?” Natasha asked, looking at the glowing reflection on the top of a ten foot wall dividing one of the hotels from the park.

“Probably.” Clark said, jumping up a bit to grab the top of the wall and look over. “Yeah, it looks like no one closed it up for cleaning. One of those Olympic sized ones. Cool.”

“Can we go swimming?” Marcie asked excitedly, tugging Dwight’s arm. “That would be so much fun!”

“That’s not really part of the park…” Dwight said more slowly than he usually would have, brain a little fuzzy from the drinks Patrick had thrust in his hands.

Julian rolled his eyes. “Then you won’t get in trouble from mommy if we get caught- let’s go.”

Dwight huffed, indignant- Julian ignored him.

It took a good amount of pushing people up, as well as pulling people like Natasha or Marcie over. They were all fit, but height wise the tallest got to go over first. Patrick was cheering too loudly as he dropped to the ground on the pool deck, stripping his shirt off before the entire group had even gotten over.

The pool was pretty large, with lawn chairs scattered all around the open blue water. One side of the wall they’d crossed had a large wall of a manmade waterfall fountain with multiple koi swimming in glass siding for decoration. It was right next to the clean, tidy shed for presumably chemicals and towels to be stored- but it didn’t even look locked. If they had been staying at this hotel, honestly they’d be complaining about the lack of security. But it was pretty.

“Are we really doing this?” Clark asked as someone’s shorts hit him in the face.

“Live a little.” One of the local girls laughed at Clark. She was then hit with a wave of water from Nathan pulling Natasha into the water with a giant grin.

Others began stripping down, clothes lying on the ground or hung on the towel hooks around the fence. Julian heard Marcie cheer as she tugged off her leggings, left only in her underwear before jumping into the water. Typically in her fashion, it was unfashionable as hell but she just floated contentedly without a care in the world. Then again, she’d worn less for last week’s beach party episode.

“Nothing left to the imagination. What would the tabloids say?” Julian snorted, patting Clark on the shoulder.

“You say that now. You should be glad no one is really awake to ambush us with photographers right now. This would be a media field day.” Clark wasn’t judging them, just stating facts.

“That’s why we have you to save our asses when it all goes wrong.” Julian said.

Clark smiled, nodding as his reply. He didn’t lose his shorts but he did join in on the hunt for inflatable pool chairs where he ended up supervising from the water.  
Patrick was overturning girls, laughing with the two locals who weren’t engaged in a battle to convert Isabelle to the queer side. Julian felt a twist in his stomach as Patrick tried to chat Jess up, trying to get three girls in the game of chicken he was setting up. Jess glared, not looking like a drowned puppy like the others girls since her hair was still fluffy when water logged. Julian thought Izzy could do quite well with this one- but there was still a nervousness that accompanied the giggles between the two of them, that hand on Isabelle’s shoulder as the two splashed each other. Julian didn’t want to think how Isabelle might be interpreting it without the haze of alcohol.

“Come on, you’re a Floridian aren’t you? You’ve got to love this, fun in the sunnnnnn.” Marcie pleaded.

Julian looked over at he hung his pants up on the hooks near the fish fountain.

“It’s the middle of the night.” Dwight said, looking down at Marcie tugging at his trouser leg from the water. He was at the edge of the pool, shoes off but that was it.

Julian wondered later if it wasn’t a mix of his own terrible choices when drunk that caused him to come up behind Dwight, to scare the shit out of him when he spoke right into his ear. “What are you? Some kind of Victorian heroine? Lose the pants Houston.”

Dwight choked a bit. Julian felt rather pleased with that reaction- though hindsight would tell him that would read really awkwardly considering what Dwight knew about him. He really hoped everyone was drunk enough they’d forget that later.

“Ooo.” Marcie giggled. “Come on. I bet you’re a good swimmer.”

“You’d all get blinded; no one wants to see me without a shirt.” Dwight said, crossing his arms with a frown. He sounded a little petulant, probably the drunkenness.

“I do!” Marcie said, joined with one of the girls by Patrick’s side before she was caught back up in trying to scramble on Patrick’s shoulders to beat Nathan and Natasha at Chicken.

“Clearly you’re possessed.” Dwight said unconvinced.

“And you’re insane if you think that’s what’s going on.” Julian said- still too close to excuse. Julian what are you doing he asked himself. His answer was pushing Dwight into the water with a large splash.

“I hate you!” Dwight sputtered, surfacing with hair stuck to his face. Isabelle and Jess were laughing at him. He tried to clamber out of the pool in his waterlogged clothes just to prove a point. But it didn’t work and Marcie cheered as he had to take his shirt off to wring it dry.

Julian was sitting on the edge of the pool, watching with a smirk. He hadn’t thought about it since the country club encounter but definitely Dwight wasn’t bad to look at. And for a guy labelled a skinny little stick by most of his friends they might need to get their eyes checked; kid probably ate whatever had been in the Potter cast catering. He did work at the WWoHP after all. Dwight wasn’t ripped like some of Julian’s castmates (oh if Alicia was there she could probably beat a good number of them in push-ups) but the guy had some muscle to him, pale as hell, but soaking wet with a flushed face from alcohol and embarrassment, well… Julian slipped into the water.

Marcie splashed around, dousing him in water but he couldn’t get mad at her. The local girls cheered- but only because Patrick and one of their number had beaten Natasha and Nathan. Cameron picked one of them up to challenge the winners- Patrick distracted from jeering at Julian being too much of a princess to properly swim rather than floating in the shallow end.

“Calm down children.” Natasha was leaning on the side of the pool, trying to look regal but just laughing too hard at the Chicken game. Someone had brought out the pool rods and Clark was dragging Marcie up onto the inflatable pool chair to save her from being smacked in the head with them.

“I am so going to beat you!” One of the local girls said from Cameron’s shoulders, making a weak swing that almost hit Julian in the face. He decided to drift over to the edge of the shallows and hang onto the edge of Clark’s chair. Yeah, not his thing.

Another large splash soaked Julian, unimpressed on two different levels now. Shaking water out of his ears, Dwight surfaced next to him looking smug. “That’s for trying to drown me.”

Julian shook his head. “Sure, that was the intention.” Maybe it was, definitely not underhanded at all.

“You sure you’re from Florida? You’re like, really pale.” Marcie said, leaning on the edge of Clark’s armrest with her toes dripping in the water. She had her face turned towards Dwight, where he treaded water very sloppily.

“I told you I would blind you.” Dwight remarked. “I’m not really the tanning type.”

“So basically you’re a lobster?” Julian teased, still holding onto the edge of the floating chair.

In his peripheral vision someone had collected a pair of flipflops to be used as projectiles in the Chicken game. Jess was covering Izzy from the flying shoes, Isabelle was just giggling as Jess got closer and closer. Julian shook his head and looked away.

“If I was a lobster I’d use my powers for good, I’d be… what powers does a lobster have?” Dwight asked confused.

“Being crabby?” Marcie grinned.

“That’s a crab.” Clark’s patience knew no bounds. Thank you Clark, Julian said silently.

Marcie continued on, “So like, how do you know Julian? You both go to that Ohio place right?”

“Went.” Julian corrected. Marcie ignored him.

Dwight looked over at Julian, like he was looking for permission. Julian didn’t give him any go-ahead signals but knowing Dwight he’d misinterpret them anyways. And yeah, there he was babbling shit.

“Well we were never friends or anything, kind of hated him.”

Julian wrinkled his nose. The feeling had been mutual.

“But it was never personal so like, after all that stuff,” Dwight clearly wasn’t listening to anyone now and was just rambling in the vaguest specific terms possible. “I wanted to like say sorry or something because it was kind of my fault and-”

Was he really telling Marcie this? Julian tightened his grip on the floating chair warningly.

Clark glanced at Julian before clearing his throat. “Dwight.”

“Oh shit.” Dwight’s eyes widened. “I mean, I-”

Julian ducked under the water and dragged Dwight down by the ankle before surfacing a little while away from Marcie. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry, I just-” Dwight’s eyes still seemed a little unfocused.

They might both be out of it, but it didn’t give Dwight an excuse to make Marcie ask questions. Julian growled. “Get out; I need to talk to you.”  
Julian pushed Dwight towards the edge of the pool, both of them on the deck leaving puddles were they stood. Marcie yelped from behind them, someone’s sunglasses hitting her. Jess was yelling something about dangerous play. Julian didn’t particularly care.

He made some ridiculous show of looking for a towel, throwing it at Dwight with an annoyed look. He didn’t need to look down, even if he’d enjoy the view. Frankly he was feeling a little idiotic. Julian knew he’d feel ever stupider when morning came with hangovers and hang-ups over bad decisions. Decisions like indulgencing whatever visual appreciation for this idiot he had. Why had he even started hanging around him?

“Are you always this stupid or is it a special occasion?” Julian asked in a low voice.

Dwight held the towel to his front, “Neither? Both? I don’t know- I thought everyone knew about the Art Hall, they took you away from Ohio according to the twins anyway.”

“Yeah, but now Marcie’s going to be wondering what the hell happened in there- and sorry if I don’t want everyone thinking you’re more important in my life than you actually are Houston.” Julian spat. “How much would you have told her about what happened in there if Clark didn’t stop you? That’s not exactly something I want advertised.”

To look at Julian you’d be astonished he still looked so composed, half drunk and furious. But coolly calling people out had been his speciality for years; it was the only way to win against a fuming prefect with a penchant for tantrums.

“I-” Dwight didn’t get to finish because that was when the glass in the gate shattered- hit by a pool rod that went flying from the game of chicken. The gate was the one that led to the actual hotel, and it must have set something off because the alarm in their ears was deafening.

“Good to know they actually have a security system.” Patrick said before someone yelled ‘get out of here now!’

But they couldn’t jump back over the fence, and flashlights were already lit up through the gate. Julian didn’t have time to think; he just grabbed Dwight and shoved him into the shed, shutting the door behind them. Looking through the crack in the door he saw Jess grab a pile of clothes and grab Izzy’s arm; pushing her up the shorter side of the wall towards the parking lot. Smart.

The guards got in just as Cameron was reaching for his pants. Isabelle’s swearing still loud enough to be heard as it faded away. The security guards could probably spot the wet footprints leading to the wall, and the shed as well, but it was dark and the night was warm enough they’d dry soon. The shed was also right next to the koi fountain, hopefully they’d ignore it for long enough to get out without being caught.

Julian tried to stay quiet but he had to keep shushing Dwight who had gone into panic mode. The shed wasn’t very large and he was trying to listen to what was happening outside- but that was hard when you had a tall, dark-haired drunken idiot with his head at your shoulder.

“She’ll kill me, she’ll bring me back to life though and then kill me again. Oh god why’d I let you guys talk me into this. I’m too young to be a zombie.” Dwight said frantically in the dark, his fingers gripping Julian’s arm.

Julian elbowed him. “Shut up, I’m trying to listen.”

“-totally guests at the hotel.” Natasha said.

Clark sighed. “Sorry sir, we were just having some fun, you know summer time. We’ll pay to replace the gate, don’t worry.”  
It was very lucky they’d finished Patrick’s stash before jumping the wall, otherwise they’d be raked over the coals. Clark seemed to be convincing them, especially since no one was actually naked… which was probably one of the weirder sentences Julian had thought.

“I’m sorry we can’t just let you leave. Can I see some ID?” One of the officers asked.

“Why? It’s simply damage, or are you charging us for something?” Cameron asked, “do I need a lawyer?”

Julian would have groaned if it wouldn’t have given them away. Dwight kept muttering in his ear, distracting him with how close they were pressed together in the shed.

“Oh my god, are those koi? We should totally get some sushi after this.” One of the remaining local girls said, unabashed that the officers were trying to question them in their underwear no less.

Clark said to them, shocked. “I really hope you’re joking- this is not the time for, what? How?”

Julian sometimes wondered if Clark wouldn’t just die from bewilderment one day, his patience had to run out at some point.

“If I need a lawyer I’d like to be informed now rather than later in lock up.” Cameron continued.

“I’m too pretty for jail.” One of the local girls said.

“They probably only have one ply toilet paper.” Marcie said contemplatively, “If we get arrested can we go to a fancy jail at least?”

The security guards seemed more confused than angry at the chatter in front of them. “We’re not arresting you, but we will have to escort you off the premises with fines for all of you. We prioritize the safety of guests over everyone else.”

“But I told you, we are guests.” Natasha protested.

“Then you’d know its hotel policy to have ID on you at all times, even if it’s just your room key. This is to prevent trespassing. You would have signed that waiver on arrival to your suite miss.” The guard’s words shut her up, red in the face. Thankfully it was still early in the morning, and the guards were being quite reasonable about letting them pick up their clothes. Hopefully with Isabelle and Jess gone, they might just get a slap on the wrist with the remaining demographic.

Julian didn’t know what would happen to them though; his pants on the other side of the pool and no clear way out until the guards left.

“This is all my fault.” Dwight said. Julian felt Dwight next his shoulder. Were he not an actor his breath might have caught, dripping hair on his shoulder and a tall guy behind him.

“While I’m mad at you right now, this is Patrick’s fault for getting everyone drunk enough to throw shit at the gate.” Julian said, “This is his fault if it ends up in the news. Which is probably what he wanted, but even he’s not stupid enough to think trespassing charges are cool.”

“I should have never opened the backdoor, now we’re all screwed.” Dwight said. Julian looked at his cast mates getting dressed and Clark calming everyone down. The local girls looked about to cry at the security crew getting testier and testier with Cameron, but he was pushed back as Clark continued to deal with the guards.  
Julian groaned, “Stop being a martyr, we would have gotten into some kind of shit knowing Patrick. Now shut up.”

“I’m not a martyr.” Dwight said overly defensively.

“Sure, and all that heroic shit isn’t supposed to be impressing someone. Calm down Houston and actually wake up to the fact you’re some kind of wannabe hero. Hating yourself until you feel better won’t make people like you, so stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault okay? God, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Though ironically the last part wasn’t aimed just at one person in that shed.

“Just shut up Larson, you don’t even know me.” Dwight snapped, back to last names. “I’m a distraction for you until you go back to work, or your movie, or whatever. If you’re so intent on never mentioning what happened in the Art Hall then why do you even hang out around me?”

That took him by surprise enough that he turned away from the doorframe. The image of the guards checking IDs and letting his cast out the broken gate disappeared, replaced with a face in shadows, glaring at him from a couple inches above him.

He wouldn’t say the things he was thinking at that moment- how he liked having someone who had been there but wasn’t going to fuss over his trauma. He wouldn’t say he actually liked hanging out with him; the way he squawked when surprised, or the awkward smile he had around people at the park who didn’t understand he was only part-time management not someone with any real power. Julian especially didn’t say how bad an idea it was they were in this shed alone together, mind going miles a minute with that one sentence of ‘I mean it’s the closest term but not completely accurate.’ He had been down that road before and shit if he wasn’t doing it again ever.

“Why do you even let me if you think I’m just messing with you anyways? Even you’re not that much of a masochist.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Julian felt the hard wood of the door at his back, heard the water from the pool and the fountain, the shadow of how close Dwight was, how he was cornered- the guy was probably oblvious to it, unaware and that was what really annoyed him.

“Neither did you.” Julian shot back.

“Again, not an answer.”

If they weren’t both operating on the level of inebriated five year olds Julian might have hit him for that. Who the hell did he think he was, all up in Julian’s face, soaking wet with- shit, then again...

He would have made some shitty retort, but that’s when he heard Isabelle’s voice hissing from outside. “Julian? You in there?”

The door opened, Jess nowhere to be seen but Isabelle was holding out their clothes with a concerned look. “The guards left but the cleaning crew is coming soon to pick up the glass. We’ve got to get out of here.”

Dwight stepped out from Julian as soon as the door opened, the towel held stiffly at his waist as he accepted his trousers from Isabelle. Julian didn’t know whether to be shocked or amused, but there was no time for contemplation as he tugged his shirt over his head.

Isabelle had the second car waiting around the side of the hotel, Nathan’s guard waiting for them to pile themselves in the backseat before hitting the gas. She was talking fast, flushed and nervous, about how worried she was for them all and how lucky they were Clark had been able to explain everything away. Again that night Julian felt himself wondering what they had done to deserve Clark Sawyer. And, when he looked at Dwight snoring against the window, what he’d done in a past life to deserve this shit.

Like all things in his life, the answers didn’t come easy.  
  
***  
  
Not an exact rendering of how the scene went because I'm not that good at posing yet, but HAPPY 22nd BIRTHDAY JOEY! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My notes for the chapter included highlights such as:  
> -1 ply toilet paper in jail  
> -someone is queer is fuck and it's not Julian  
> -i am straightedge and thus i am clark in this damn story rn  
> -Marcie is basically Luna Lovegood  
> -fuck characterization I'm making it up  
> -Agatha Houston, necromancer  
> -security systems are terrible  
> -someone gets a boner idk
> 
> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Halsey


	8. Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

The following day on set Julian only had one scene, but he was called to be in the background of a few others so he was stuck in his chair for most of the day. He was scrolling on his iPhone, tossing remarks out every so often at the crew. They respected him, he respected them, but everyone knew Julian was in a mood and ought not to be disturbed. 

Carlos was hovering just out of sight, patrolling the edge of the set for anyone attempting to sneak past Universal’s individual security teams. The soundstage was pretty secure though, so despite the director calling for Izzy to redo a lot of her scenes the day was going smoothly. 

For most of the morning Julian had been distracting himself from checking the “1 new message” from Dwight’s number. He was afraid of whatever it might be considering whatever happened last night at the pool. Was his mother going to ban him from the Universal Parks? Was Dwight going to retract any ambiguously queer comments he made? Deny anything happened maybe? Was he going to try to initiate something? The feeling of limbo was safer than the fear of anything actually happening. 

Instead of wondering whatever the hell his life had become, worrying over if fucking Dwight Houston was into him, he was engaged in going over headshots on his phone. He’d gotten emailed the casting director’s top choices for the male lead, and it was up to him to veto or confirm. The director had been chosen, he hadn’t gotten the documentary lady so he was stuck with the guy- who had already expressed a preference for the generic pretty boy for ‘artistic reasons’. 

Julian didn’t want to dismiss the choice, a lot of directors initially labelled Julian as a pretty boy after all- but he was getting stronger feelings about the other choice the casting director had screen tested. And the movie was about an aspiring rock musician, the second choice actually knew how to play three different instruments.  
It was a tough call maybe, but he was paying for most of it unless the grants went through, so it was all up to Julian in the end. He curled up tighter in his chair and typed out his support of the second candidate. It was his movie, and it would look stupid if they couldn’t have a musician at least strumming on film. 

“Julian?” Carlos asked. 

Julian looked up, “yeah?” 

“I know you don’t want to be bothered between scenes, but there are some girls at the fence who want to say hi.” Carlos said. 

Julian lowered his sunglasses, “I thought I paid you to keep people away?” 

Carlos rubbed his neck, “Well they’ve already been there an hour and said they won’t leave until you say hi. They seem really nice, no giggling even.” 

Julian sighed. He liked fans, he really did, but spontaneous encounters were much better than what usually turned into extended meet and greets. “You better be right, and they stay on the opposite side of the fence.” 

It wasn’t a crowd, only five or seven- not too bad. But he could see why Carlos brought them over. They were in the middle of the locked gate, so everytime someone wanted to enter with a golf cart or a truck they had to clear the girls out a safe distance before opening it up. 

“Hi Julian!” the girls chorused like they had known him for years. He smiled back and went on signing things through the fence and smiling as they took selfies with him. The metal grate between them was kind of comforting considering how close some fans decided to get, chose to get, with a knife… he shook his head and kept up chit chat with them. Some had seen the SD-Fans interview and asked questions about Grant’s arc; others asked about the movie. He had to explain it didn’t have a title yet. They assured him they’d love it no matter what it was called- Julian doubted that. 

When he got to the one at the end, a girl with the thick black curls he paused. She looked familiar. 

“Jess, right?” He asked, “From last night?” 

The group of girls started whispering amongst themselves jealously, intrigue flitting to and fro. Jessica nodded quietly, ignoring the group she’d simply tagged along with. “Yeah, I’m sorry everyone else got in trouble.” 

“Well you saved Izzy, so I think I owe you one.” Julian said kindly. 

“It wasn’t a problem, but if you don’t mind could you give this to her?” Jess slid an envelope, not unlike the fan letters the others had handed to him had been in. “She’s feeling okay right?” 

Julian paused, now that he was seeing Jessica now it was a bit more obvious how off Isabelle had seemed at makeup that morning. Of course she was coherent as she was getting berated about her dark circles, but that was hangover wasn’t it? But she’d been nervous and jumpy, tripping over lines enough times to slow things down in her scenes. Julian had been worried that she was coming down with a cold, but maybe it had something to do with whatever happened when she and Jess went over the wall last night. 

“Sure.” Julian promised; she looked very grateful as Carlos started to shoo them all away. 

“Thanks boss, I mean you didn’t have to but that was really nice.” 

Julian shrugged. “We wouldn’t really have a show if it wasn’t for the fans; and I do owe that girl.” He looked down at the envelope, ‘Isabelle’ it read. He was tempted to open it and peek at whatever was written but he had enough of his own problems to deal with. The gossip machine in Hollywood was always turning though; hopefully it was nothing that Izzy couldn’t get over. 

Instead of worrying about it, he left the letter on Izzy’s chair between takes. He tried to distract himself when he wasn’t needed in the scene by highlighting parts of the script, but he had it all memorized anyways. Character motivation notes? He knew everything about Grant, it was second nature with this character which was one of the reasons he wanted to try something different this season. The reduction of Grant’s string of girls was a nice change from endless shoots where he’d just have a girl against a wall or in the backseat of a car- filming in cars was always a pain. 

Luckily he was called on before he thought his closing line to death. The scene went well, but he wished that Clark was in it as well. However Clark and Marcie were doing interviews in downtown Orlando. 

Thinking of Marcie was weird because his bewildered mind had registered her as some kind of threat last night; just another reason to stay away from Patrick’s party ideas, it just caused mess after mess. He didn’t blame Marcie for any of it, that’d be stupid, but feeling jealous over Marcie being all touchy with Dwight made Julian feel like an asshole- an asshole who should have drunk more so he would forget the whole thing. Then again, if he’d drunk more who knows what might have happened in that shed, the thought was terrifying.

He stepped off the soundstage, accepting a plate of food from one of the interns from craft services. There should have been eggs, or bacon, or some kind of greasy fry up because he was still feeling hung over. He ate the kale and feta anyways, better not worry the intern that he was sick. She’d probably go running to the director and that’d be a headache- especially because someone would have to be blamed about why he’d been drinking underage (like that ever stopped anyone). 

His phone buzzed, new message from Clark. “On my way back w Marcie. Dinner?” Julian smiled down at his phone before replying ‘Yeah, you pick where.’ And exiting the conversation. 

And there is was again- that unread message from Dwight. Shit. Might as well get this embarrassment over with, whatever posturing and shit Houston decided to deny it all with. Not that he’d ever denying shit in his own life, but he was the one who was confirmed bi at knifepoint, not stammering something to seem enlightened over a Cuban sandwich. 

“Thanks for the lift home. See you later.” 

Really Houston? Julian almost texted that. Instead he turned his phone off to fume. 

All of this was a mess, and Dwight didn’t even have the decency to ask what the hell was happening. Ignoring it like it never even happened, classy. That was supposed to be Julian’s defence mechanism. 

Normally Julian would just leave, flat out ignore him for the rest of the summer and pretend like this was all some weird kind of dream. He would, except for the fact everyone, even Patrick probably, knew the kid was awkward as fuck. Maybe it was just taking Houston off guard that it wasn’t some fictional supernatural crime fighter who was getting him bothered in a shed- hell this whole ludicrous situation was taking Julian off guard. 

He didn’t want to pursue this, he didn’t chase straight guys. Hell he wasn’t even chasing Houston, he wasn’t even attrac- okay he got away from Dalton to stop lying to himself. He was attracted to Dwight, which was insane first of all. But what would be the point? 

Last winter in Paris, that was amazing. He had Sebastian’s number from a basket of macrons and ‘get well’ flowers tucked in a drawer- and it wasn’t one of those junk drawers, but the locked one where he kept important things. Julian had never used the number though, what could he even talk to him about? How Sebastian never showed up? But things were good then, stuck in a moment of happiness that all seemed frozen in time. Frozen in ice even, and he didn’t want to melt those memories into the present. 

Could he get something similar out of this summer? It was less than a month before he was supposed to go on tour with Clark and his band- it wasn’t too long to get hurt, nothing permanent. And he wasn’t going back to Dalton so there wouldn’t be any awkward encounters, so wouldn’t it be a good thing? 

Julian tucked his legs up in the chair, thinking while the set crew changed the layout of the scene. It could go wrong though, if Logan showed up like he did in Paris, buying that stupid coat for Hummel. But knowing Logan he’d probably see him this time, ask him why he was hanging out in Orlando with the Windsor weirdo. 

Was his life meant to be haunted by Logan Wright? Would he be able to stay permanently in any city without him walking in and ruining whatever he had going on? He didn’t want that, not after Adam poisoning any kind of attachment he had to that one haven he had in the States. A boy for each city, was he going to have to just stay in LA permanently and pray that Cameron never found out their kiss all those years ago hadn’t been a curious young teenager joking around? What would be the point if it all went wrong? 

And yet, that traitorous voice in the back of his mind said it might go right. Logan hadn’t shown up so far, and Houston was a private sort of guy. He wouldn’t broadcast things if they stayed away from alcohol, and its not like anyone would believe him. And he was nice to hang around. Weird as it was to admit, having someone who had been there but was only in his life temporarily. 

It could be fun, and Houston wasn’t pushing him away, hell if he had actually put anything about what had happened last night in a cellphone that could easily be hacked? Well, he was a paranoid kid; maybe he wasn’t pretending last night was a blur… 

“Julian?” Cameron was beside his chair shaking his shoulder. “You okay?” 

Julian blinked. “Yeah, yeah, just feeling a little worn out.” 

“You did have a lot to drink last night,” Cameron smiled. “I mean your friend seemed even more out of it than you though.” 

Julian froze, the tone of Cameron’s voice seemed conversational but something was off; like he wanted to ask a question that couldn’t be broached. Cameron continued, “It was fun though right? Thank the guy for us.” 

“I will.” Julian didn’t know what else to say. 

“Cool.” Cameron patted Julian’s shoulder before walking over to Isabelle and saying something to her. She was stuffing an envelope into her purse- that envelope Julian put there from Jessica- with a hurried expression on her face. Julian sighed. If it wasn’t a dumb idea he’d join the Disney kids on that celibacy shtick; it would cut his stress levels down so much. 

There was still an uneasy feeling in Julian’s mind, undeleted contacts weighing on his conscience. But the most prevalent things as to realize whatever that would happen, would happen. He couldn’t stress about what ifs right now, not with more important things that his shitty love life. If Houston wanted to make out with him, then the kid would have to come to him- the same with Wright. 

The director called for him on set. Julian got up from his chair. If anyone wanted to man up he’d be all for it, but until then he had a show to shoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter, but I wanted to get a lot of this thought process out in the "open" for Julian.
> 
> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Fall Out Boy


	9. The Unknown Troubles on your Mind

“Dwight!”

His head lifted up off the counter to glare at Sadie for being so loud.  It was her counter though, her family’s stool, and her comfy maroon couch that he had spent the night on.  And most importantly, it was her who was putting a plate of the greasiest fry up he had ever seen in front of him- the housekeeper had helped, but she had done the toast and watched the bacon, so it counted. 

“Wake up and stop drooling; you did this to yourself.” Sadie said, pushing his forehead back up before he fell back asleep on the barstool.  Sadie’s parents had already gone to work.  Since it was summer they simply hadn’t expected their teenaged daughter to be up before noon when she was usually researching spirits until dawn; let alone already be poolside with the sunshine killing their best friend’s gothic sensibilities at nine am.

“Not my fault Sadie.” Dwight groaned but started eating his eggs anyway.  Sadie frowned.

“You said your mother’s been having you work at the parks, so I expected some late nights because for some reason they made you management. But I wanted you on your days off whole and healthy, not drunk on my doorstep at four am.”

Sadie had her own plate off to the side while she lectured him in that quiet voice of hers.  Truthfully Dwight was guilty for showing up at her place so late.  He knew his mother would ground him if he had revealed that he had let the Something Damaged cast in after closing, so he shot her off a text that he was staying the night at Sadie’s.  That sort of resulted in waking up Sadie’s housekeeper to put him to sleep on the sofa in her room.  Sadie was up anyways, but it didn’t mean she was happy about it.  

“I’m sorry, I just know mom would kill me if she saw me come in so late.” Dwight said between mouthfuls of bacon.  He wished Sadie’d whisper, her voice sounded like shouting to him, but that was his punishment he supposed.

“You are very lucky your mother knows I think of you platonically, my parents too.  Anyone else and they would think we were up to no good.” Sadie said. 

“Would you rather I have crashed at Morgan’s?” Dwight asked.

“God no.” Sadie replied, pulling her plate of toast towards her.  “You’d have been caught by his siblings in a heartbeat.  I just mean heteronormativity is a thing for most people.”

“Yeah, cause that’s really applicable to you and me.” Dwight felt a little groggy for this conversation, damn Sadie’s ability to hold a conversation at any level of sleep deprived.

“Dwight, you were yelling your straightness all over the playground like the most no-homo neanderthal in middle school.” She counted, her own pink-purple-blue flag status confirmed eons ago by Willow and Han Solo respectively.  “Then your roommate brought you over to the cool kid’s table-”

“It’s not your place Sadie.” Dwight sighed, now his head hurt more.

Sadie continued, a quiet smile on her face as she teased him.  “You were the one who accepted our skype call and treated Morgan, Lucas, and I to whatever weird things you two were into.”

“That was an accident Sadie.  Once again, I’m sorry.  You don’t think I was embarrassed? Or Todd? I was trying to decline and the trackpad messed up!” Dwight’s face was beet red. “And we were not doing anything weird!”

“I’m just saying Dwight, you’re crushing on someone else now so when I get up to Dobry I’m stealing your roommate from you.” Sadie shrugged, hiding a smile at Dwight’s deeper blush.  He wished they’d never found out about Todd, or that he was having these conflicted feelings over someone at the park. 

Thankfully his accidental honesty with Sadie and the rest of his friends stopped at identities- if Sadie knew who was causing his flustered texts of ‘help, how do you know if someone’s hitting on you?’ she might die. Or kill him. Or just kill Julian.  Or accidentally curse everyone in the vicinity out of shock.  Dwight groaned; this was so much easier when Buffy was the extent of his romantic life, and sex seemed like a concept he would never have to deal with.  Damn it.

“Why do I tell you things?” Dwight asked.

“Because you’re a late bloomer Dwight, and I’m younger and far wiser.” She pushed her grilled tomatoes onto his plate and stole some more of his toast. “But if you were off with your mystery girl-or-guy last night then I’m afraid I’m going to have to meet them.  You can’t come in after a drunken hookup and expect me to cover all the time- you were supposed to be at the universal park anyway, and if you’re not at the park or therapy sessions, then I don’t really think you should be taking up all your time with some secret crush we haven’t even approved of.”

“I was at the park.” Dwight insisted, “I just got… overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” Sadie paused, taking stock of how exactly hungover her old friend was. “Nothing happened that you didn’t want to happen right?”

“Oh shit, no Sadie not like that!” If Sadie had given him a mug of tea he probably would have upset it all over the counter.  “No, he’s just got a ton of idiotic friends who decided they’d use my park access to climb all over the rides after closing.  And they were all drunk, and then I got drunk, and shit, nothing happened Sadie.”

“So it is a he.” Sadie said, not maliciously. “But then what was stopping the two of you then? Clearly you wanted something to happen but instead you’re on my doorstep instead of ruining his bedsheets.”

He blushed, wishing they could just talk about the recent hauntings in the suburbs instead of his not-even-a-crush.  It was barely an infatuation, just a curiosity, an annoyance maybe.  “It’s not like that Sadie.”

“Yes it is.” Sadie sighed, finishing off her sausages with a glint in her eyes which she always got when she wouldn’t let anyone convince her she was wrong.

He got annoyed. “What do you know Sadie? You're a virgin, I've got like, half a point over you on these kinds of things.  I’d rather talk about the stakeout we were planning for today anyways, can’t we just forget it?”

Sadie shook her head.  “Virginity is an outdated concept or do I need to reread our findings on virgin blood again? I mean if your mother is keeping us apart with that job, you might as well have fun at the park and bring me back awesome stories.  We haven't even gone hunting in the old Newmann place! Morgan has a graph and everything.”

"Morgan has what?" Morgan asked, walking in with a tray of coffee mugs and a sugar bowl.  “The housekeeper let me in, told me to bring this through.”

“Thank you.” Sadie took a cup from the tray and pulled up a stool for him.  The nook was mostly used for her parents poolside parties when they hired a bartender, but she knew Dwight would need the fresh air so she opted for outside instead of eating in the kitchen. 

“What are we talking about?” Morgan asked as he sat, Sadie accepting a mug of coffee from him.  He laid out the scrolls of maps and charts he’d brought on the counter as Dwight held his head still bone tired.

“The Newmann haunting.” Dwight said at the same time as Sadie said, “Dwight’s hungover and ditching us for some guy.”

“Is he hot?” Morgan said straight-faced as Sadie fought not to laugh.  Out of any of them Morgan had the best blank humour, you couldn’t take a word he said at face value.  While it often misfired when people didn’t understand the extremely subtle sarcasm his friends did.  Dwight however wasn’t appreciating it.

“I don’t need this. Can we just talk about the case?”  Dwight’s bangs hid how bloodshot his eyes were- he was officially writing mean comments on Patrick Wilson’s fanpage.  This was an awful hangover.

“Well if you’re imposing on Sadie then we have a right to know if it’s worth it.” Morgan steepled his fingers, “Was it his idea for you to get shitfaced and useless? Or is it terribly unrequited so you did this to yourself?”

Dwight almost accepted the mug of coffee just to have something to distract them from this line of questioning. He waved his friends, who had suddenly become protective mother hens, away.  “It was a bad idea, his friends are idiots, and he’s… anyway I think he’s into me but no, he’s just a friend.  Can we just drop it? I’ll be more conci- concioust- conscientious next time I need to get home late.”

“Third time’s the charm, not bad for someone with eyes as red as you.” Morgan said lifting Dwight’s bangs with a nod. “We have to meet him if he’s just a friend then.  I’m guessing you never told him what you do for a living.”

Sadie hummed off tune under her breath, “ _A stain that never comes off the sheets, clean me off_ -”

“Please don’t finish that.” Dwight said looking over at her.

“You’d rather he do it?” Sadie’s lips turned up, giggling.

“Sometimes you guys are worse than the Windsors.” He poked the rolls of paper Morgan had brought.  “Seriously, drop it.”

Sadie’s eyes softened. “Okay, but at least text him and thank him for the ride or something.  I don’t want you guys to have a falling out because we got you riled up about it.”

“We do need to go quite in depth over the case, we might have a type three poltergeist on our hands.  If of course it isn’t just another escaped cat from the shelter again.” Morgan said as Sadie handed Dwight his phone from her pile of stuff under the poolside bar.

Dwight sent off a quick text. “Thanks for the lift home.  See you later.”  He put his phone on the countertop and they finally got down to talking (quietly) about the Newmann haunting.  

It was a house a couple doors down from Morgan’s old house, currently set for remodelling so there was a few construction crews on standby.  Most of the homes in Serendipity Hills were on huge lots with small backyards, large driveways, and the only place to build in these luxurious Mediterranean-inspired villas was up.  Sadie had two floors, but her mother was in the process of trying to add a third floor solar like some kind of nouveau riche addition to one up the neighbours.  The Houstons of course had the nicest home in the area, but that wasn’t actually much to do with money, more to do with Agatha’s refined taste.  So, the fact that no one had started breaking walls or changing the exterior for the rumoured monster-mansion extension made the group think something was odd- summer was in its height and with everyone on vacation it was the perfect time to contract out and live in the Bahamas for a month. 

In addition to the crew’s supposed reluctance to start work, Morgan’s EMF reader was pinging off the place like mad.  He’d been researching Indian burial sites, old murders, the typical paranormal mumbo-jumbo but he came up empty.  He guessed it was a recent addition of a cursed item that had brought a tortured soul- by the sounds that were floating through the neighbourhood at night.

“So we know it’s not a rabid cat? Because in Pennsylvania when we jumped that old lady on a school trip we almost got arrested.” Sadie confirmed.

Morgan hummed, remembering the incident. “Yeah well, she should have taken the animal to the vet long before we had to intervene.”

“We almost got expelled.” Dwight interjected.

“Yes, we did. Thank you Mr. Granger.” Morgan said, spreading the map of suspected hauntings in Serendipity Hill across the counter. All suspected haunting were marked: solved cases were green, in progress was yellow, and innocent bystanders were blue- there was a lot of blue.  If they weren’t rich they would have gotten arrested a while ago.

“Okay, so if it is a cat or some kind of animal it can’t be a local one.  All of those are microchipped, even Mrs. Kenneth’s snakes which are in those fancy reptile tanks.” Sadie said.  “Where’s the nearest shelter or pet store?”

“You don’t have those marked? I’m disappointed.” Dwight had put his head on the counter beside his finished plate of food, hoping Sadie wouldn’t notice him trying to sneak a nap.

Sadie peered at the suburban sprawl of the map, “Morgan look it up?”

Morgan reached for the nearest phone to use the maps app, which happened to be Dwight’s.  They all knew each other’s passwords after a disastrous incident with autocorrect so he thought nothing of swiping the design to open the phone.  Dwight however was just hung over enough he said, “No!” too late.

The phone opened onto the last used application, which happened to be a message thanking one ‘Julian Larson’ for the car ride. 

Morgan didn’t say anything, looking down at the phone.  Dwight’s hands flailed uselessly in the air as he hid his face.  Sadie was sitting up on her stool, trying to catch who it was Dwight had been texting.  

Unpausing his actions, Morgan got over the initial shock and went to find the map application, talking while he was searching.  “Well then, there’s no getting around it now Dwight.  Even if you are just friends, you have to introduce us now.  You’re in the company of Hollywood royalty.”

“Who is it?” Sadie asked, trying to take the phone out of his hands.  Morgan simply put the phone back down on the table away from her. 

“Only the same Stuart who caused out best friend to end up in hospital for a week from his own pride not to inform authorities he had a stalker- the same Stuart who’s from the largest site of demon deals in the United States.” Morgan wasn’t deadpanning- he was serious as he spoke to Sadie, Dwight still hiding behind his hair.

“Wait, stalker… LA… you can’t mean Julian Larson? The movie star?” Sadie asked, looking from Dwight to Morgan. She put her coffee down, “well I can see why you were hiding it.  Oh jeez.”

“It’s not a big deal, like I said nothing’s happening-” Dwight tried to explain.  “Newmann house, pet shelters!”

“Wait Dwight- Julian Larson has been the ‘friend’ whose been hitting on you?” Sadie interrupted, both stunned and confused, with just a tinge of worry for her friend. “He’s queer?”  

Morgan marked off the pet shelters on the map, none of which were anywhere near the home.  He didn’t drop it though.  “You have a day off tomorrow right? Maybe we’ll take him hunting.”

Dwight sunk his head back down to the counter as Morgan handed him his phone back.  This was a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy, Serendipity Hills Hunters! At least my babes Morgan and Sadie anyways. I had to tone down a lot of my dialogue, bc even though neither of them really have any canon personalities I have my own characterization I don't want to break. I had to rewrite a lot bc it basically came out like when I RP Dwight with my friend Mari and the two of us break into conversation with one another's characters. Basically Sadie was sounding like me and not herself. Oops? I like her being witty, but she's not sassy in the same way Dwight or Laura are. The way I've constructed the Morgan in my head is also more restrained than my own humour. 
> 
> Sort of filler? I really wanted a Dwight chapter, and the two of them will reunite again don't worry. 
> 
> I tried very hard not to go very into anyone's inner thoughts like I do with Julian bc its like Harry Potter in the way I write this- we can see into Harry's head, but not Ginny or Luna or anyone like that.
> 
> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Iron Maiden


	10. Crocodile Rock

Julian spent the rest of his day wrapping up filming before heading to dinner with Clark and Marcie. Carmen was driving, with Carlos switching off with her for that responsibility post-wrap. She had been quiet for most of the ride after making an overly-friendly comment asking where ‘his boy’ went. The death glare pushed her back to professionalism.

Julian suspected his team knew something, but they had privacy agreements and enough legal paperwork they wouldn’t say anything without a million dollar suit on their heads. Which was a shame he had to have that kind of insurance, but that was one thing he wasn’t ready to share with the world.

Julian had turned off his phone again after that awkward text at noon. Instead he focused on dodging photographer’s arm-length lenses to greet his friends. The place Clark had picked was one of the upscale places on the strip. Julian had seen the place from a distance, he had a hotel room nearby, thought he used it sparingly. He slept in his trailer most days for convenience.

Clark, as usual was looking effortless in jeans and a blue striped jacket cuffed at the elbows. Julian would be jealous if he didn’t know he matched Clark toe-for-toe. If they weren’t friends his vanity would inform him that he surpassed in all but height.

“Julian! I hope you don’t mind, we ordered for you. It’s all Italian-Thai fusion so we don’t even know what it’s like.” Marcie said as he sat down.

She was probably going to end up on the Worst Dressed List again for the outfit she showed up to their late dinner in, but she didn’t care that black and purple converse clashed with a dark green romper. Luckily it gave Julian a distraction from the photographers who had been called to follow them around. A studio executive heard him arrange where to meet Clark over the phone; so it was unfortunately Julian’s fault for not using text.

“It’s fine.” Julian said honestly. Any animosity he felt towards Marcie had faded throughout the day. It wasn’t anything conscious, so he should make an effort to not be so petty towards her. Pettiness was the mark of a Stuart- of which he wasn’t one any longer.

Julian cracked jokes with Clark while they ate. The food made no sense, but they genuinely enjoyed it. Most of dinner was spent listening to Marcie’s story about the seagull that delivered bottle caps to her during the hills shoot that morning.

He felt his hand twitching towards his phone, annoyed he was so hung up about this. He was almost tempted to text back now, “that’s all you have to say?” People didn’t ignore Julian Larson, especially after something like whatever happened in that pool shed.

He turned the phone on; with too many notifications he couldn’t see if anyone had texted. He was annoyed, but unless Dwight was an idiot… They’d both felt something- literally, it wasn’t even emotions. But Julian was stubborn, so he turned the phone over to Marcie to take a photo of him and Clark. He’d do some promo to take his mind off it. He and Clark looked good tonight anyways.

Clark’s arm around him, the photo was snapped. He captioned it “anticipation for #HavenTour2011” for Twitter. Promotion, good friends, and just a bit of business: Clark laughed at one of Marcie’s jokes. Julian felt better.

The next day the only communication he’d received from Dwight was still that text. He still was on set doing more filming.

Between takes Natasha, Isabelle, and him took a walk to the fence to meet up with fans. This time they went outside the fence, it seemed safe enough with all their security on hand. There were just two girls and what looked like their boyfriends waiting with sharpies and merchandise from the network’s online store.

“Isabelle, you seem distracted, is everything okay?”

Since Julian had dropped that letter from Jess she’d been off. Not a bad sort of off: she was humming off-key but also very twitchy. She kept her phone closer to her than Julian did; which was notable considering he had already fended off three phone calls from his overzealous accountants about production budgets.

Natasha bumped her other side as they waved at the four waiting for them, the fence opening usually took a minute unless it was an emergency. “You look a little flushed; do you need us to go to the first aid station?”

“No, I’m fine.” Izzy smiled naturally, but then again they were all actors. Julian kept her close to his side as they greeted the fans.

He knew it had to have something to do with whatever happened with Jessica, but he couldn’t be certain what it was. Julian suspected there was some kind of adoration from Jessica’s end, but she hadn’t immediately recognized them for the TV show so it wasn’t like she was a fan. But the suspicions he did have didn’t seem to match up with Isabelle’s behaviour.

The first girl was already taking a picture. He thought for a second more before engaging in light conversation with one of the guys. Either way, Isabelle had them if she got into harm’s way; that’s why they were such a tight knit cast.

Smiling as one of the guys took a photo of them and the girls, he was careful not to be right beside them. Sometimes when he put his arms around girls for fan photos their boyfriends got really mad at him. He didn’t want any trouble, but then again, trouble found him.

The second girl was a little rougher with her demands than the first, the sharpie already uncapped as she pressed it and some paper into Isabelle’s hands.

Her boyfriend apologized, “Sorry guys, she’s just a really big fan. We watch the show together, and last season’s finale was kind of insane.”

“That’s sweet.” Isabelle said, to the fact they watched it together, but the girl was already talking a mile a minute at Natasha.

“When you had that breakdown I was totally crying along with you. You’re just such a good actress, you make crying look good. How do you do that? I just admire you so much, you’re amazing. Like super amazing, like, I totally bought that dress you wore to the Emmys last year, and like I don’t look as good as you in it but I just had to-”

“Um thank you.” Natasha was backing away nervously as the girl invaded her personal space.

Isabelle and Julian recognized this. Even though it was them who had committed stalkers Natasha usually got the creepy fans who didn’t know their boundaries. For Natasha it was only a matter of time until a long-time stalker revealed themselves, she’d been in the business too long for there not to be at least one. Seeing what it did to her cast mates made it even worse; it was not the stalking itself, but the fear of it. Those encounters of short lived mania usually resulted in her needing a few minutes, half an hour, or a terrifying four days to recover from the fright.

Usually they flagged down security, but then Julian’s phone buzzed. He glanced down, seeing a “D” in the name… well it was as good a time as any. He used the opportunity to take Natasha’s arm. “This must be a call back to the set, sorry we couldn’t stay longer.”

Isabelle continued their apologies as Julian picked up, speaking loudly. “Yeah, yeah on our way. Don’t worry.”

The gates for the fence opened just as slowly as they had getting out. “Julian? What are you talking about?”

Julian’s worry for Natasha blended into dread. Just one of the two people he had been trying to avoid. “Derek. Hi. I really have to go.”

Natasha looked up, recognizing the name from the few times he talked about school. She also knew he was one of the guys who had tried to keep Julian at the school when he didn’t ever want to go back. At least that was what he had said in his press release. And what he’d screamed at a private meeting after he’d been released from hospital, still high on painkillers.

“Julian can we just talk? I’ve been wondering if you’re okay for months now, you’ve been ignoring my calls.”

“Then maybe you should take a hint I didn’t think it was you calling.” Julian said sharply. “I don’t want to talk to you, or him.”

Natasha touched his sleeve with a soft look on her face. Isabelle caught up, Natasha had to mouth what was happening.

“I know you’re nervous about Logan knowing, but he’s gotten a lot better.” Derek’s voice sounded far away.

Julian held onto Natasha harder. “That implies there was a worse.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye.” Derek said.

“I’m saying goodbye now.” He hung up. Great, that was another day ruined.

He had thought it was Dwight trying to apologize for actually being straight and too drunk. No, it was one person he never wanted to speak to again- no actually, he was second to Logan Wright the-who-cares-which-one. Now all this day needed was a trailer fire and it’d be a perfect shoot. Wow.

Day three started worse than the last two days combined; if only because it had happened after the last two days for Julian.   He was fed up. Enjoying the time off shooting today wasn’t even an option because he was contractually obligated to be at a promotional event for the new season. Usually his manager could get him out of things he didn’t want to do (the recent ‘medical issues’ excuse had been working wonders). For this however? No such luck.

There was a distinct advantage to having Julian handle the press. His role was diminished, his face was one of the most famous in the cast, and the network couldn’t sneeze at those odds. Even Julian knew he was one of the best for the job. He was charming and charisma was how he planned to make a bulk of his career. However after that phone call and being ignored he wasn’t in the mood for wooing journalists.

“I’m on my way, calm down.” Julian snipped at his manager, weaving through the back routes of the Universal Studios. Ducking under the comically large green screens being moved by stage hands, he kept his grip tight on his phone while Carmen and Carlos kept their sights tight on him.

His manager’s voice was high and tinny. “You’re going to be late! The press is going to spend all this time getting cozy with Lucy Hale and completely forget about you!”

“As if they’d ever get bored of grilling me on the horror of getting kidnapped and put in a coma.” Come to think of it, the last time he’d spoken to Derek was _that_ night, which made it all the worse. “They’ll be bringing that up until I’m seventy.”

Carmen and Carlos got closer out of habit at the word ‘kidnapping’. He heard a sigh from the other end of the phone. She knew it was true. It really hadn’t been a good couple of days.

“Don’t shrug it off Julian.” His manager said. “This is important, and no matter how terrible it seems to you, we need you to stay in the public eye. Social media is getting more powerful so unless you start using your accounts more, you have to use mainstream media to keep current. If you disappear, so does your career! By whatever means necessary I’m not having that stalker ruin you forever!”

“I’m going on tour with Clark. I have my own production.” Julian knew how the game was played, she wasn’t his first manager. She was right, but he didn’t like it. “I tweeted at dinner last night, even tagged the location so they press would know where to say we ate.”

“That movie of yours is completely supported by your money, your reputation Julian. Maybe if you actually chose to star in it we wouldn’t have to try so hard to get your face out there.”

His manager’s refrain: You’re an actor, why aren’t you acting? He was, but that wasn’t the role for him. He believed in this. If it would sink or swim on his name he wanted it produced honestly. As soon as people saw it they’d see it was more than just smoke and Hollywood mirrors.

Final revisions on the screenplay were in, and his manager still wasn’t convinced of his convictions. Still… people wouldn’t care nearly as much as if they would if he remained at the forefront of everyone’s minds.

So here he was, hurrying across the vast lot of the Universal Studios Orlando to the feeding frenzy of tired, hot, and hungry journalists, for which he was the raved-about entrée.  

“Out of the way! Animal control! Or something- just move unless you want to be eaten!”

Julian stopped his quick jog to stare. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What? What’s going on?”

Abruptly cut off as he hung up on her, his manager was left in limbo, Julian didn’t know if he should laugh or groan. This couldn’t be real.

Screaming around the corner of a soundstage building was a white Universal Studios golf cart, going as fast as its electric motor would allow. Two burly on-site workers with catch poles- those long staves with wire loops on the end- were hanging out of the side.

Some people jumped out of the way when they saw the cart and what it was chasing. Others just moved slightly until someone yelled, “It’s a mama!” Then they scattered.

In the driver’s seat was Dwight fucking Houston, yelling at the top of his lungs as a seven-foot long alligator rushed down the main road of the studio lot. Apparently Floridians didn’t mess around with their gators.

Julian was feeling lucky he was on a side street watching the lunacy play out. Until of course the alligator decided to switch course and turn down the alleyway, right at Carmen, Carlos, and him.

Shit.

“This way!” Carlos shouted, providing cover so Carmen could lead Julian away in a run. The staff was catching up, their poles waving in the sunlight.

The corridor Carmen picked was of course a dead end, like this wasn’t just the way to have the day go. She swore loudly, the gator right on their heels.

Carmen and Julian leapt up on some crates of discarded set dressings next to the dumpster, figuring they could at least jump higher than an alligator. It was faster than Julian had expected. It didn’t even occur to him that alligators would be anywhere this far from water, let alone be so quick out of it.

The shadowy cool of the alley seemed to slow the animal down enough for the golf cart to squeal to a halt in front of it. The workers threw themselves onto the thing’s back, catching its jaws in the loops of their staves. Carlos caught the thrashing tail by sitting on it so the workers could tie it up tight.

Dwight stepped out of the golf cart, fixated on the quieting reptile as he radioed in their location. “Studio 14, can you send your wranglers over to the south side of the studios, block B? We’ve found your mother alligator. Over.”

“This is Studio 14, thanks for the assistance. We’ll have someone there in a few minutes. Over.”

Must be where they were shooting one of those staged nature shows, Julian thought. Something like Animal Adventures, Zootopia… who even knows? Animal trainers were so ill prepared for show business these days.  

If Carmen had noticed Dwight she was smart enough not to say anything. Her boss secure, she hopped off the crate to help her brother and the workers contain the alligator.

“Hey Houston, fate’s telling us we have really got to stop meeting like this.”

Dwight looked up, surprised at Julian’s exclamation. “Shit. What are you doing here? The _Something Damaged_ set is on the other end of the lot.”

Dwight was back in that regulation Parks management uniform; navy tie and dark blue shirt, wrinkled and tucked up to his elbows. It looked just as awful as it was really, really nice.

Julian stopped himself from pulling a full-body scan; leaning on the wall like it wasn’t unusual for a guy to drive a company golf cart like a Mad Max extra. “I’m doing press near the south entrance. I should be asking you the same thing. Don’t you work in the park not the studios?”

Dwight shrugged, “Some of the Animal Control guys for the swan pond were nearby. I had a golf cart and the right radio frequency. Would you rather we get here later?”

“Not really.” Julian said.

Dwight checked that the four on the alligator were busy before crossing the alley and climbing up on the crate. “You’re okay right?”

“About the alligator? Yeah.” The initial shock was gone and he was back to remembering why this day had started off so crappy. “About everything else? No. You’re an idiot Houston.”

Dwight flushed, looking guilty. “To be fair, I have a good excuse.”

“You’re going to need a lot of excuses.” The two of them weren’t really looking at each other, just watching the bodyguards and the workers on top of the alligator waiting for a tranquilizer dart.

“Did you really want me to say something about what happened at the pool over text?” Dwight asked. “Didn’t Johnny Depp or I don’t know, someone famous, get all their texts hacked and put all over the internet?”

Julian narrowed his eyes, true. Still not good enough.

Something his manager didn’t seem to understand is that he was not a forgettable person. He deserved better than being a second-thought in someone’s day. It was why he couldn’t go back to Dalton, it’s why this film of his was going to succeed, it’s why he was who he was.

“And you couldn’t have texted that? Or are you lack the capacity to say anything other than specific and damning?”

Dwight scratched his wrist nervously. “I was also on a hunt? EMF was off the charts, honestly if I kept it on for any longer it’d have gotten corrupted and then I’d lose the phone-”

“That’s crap and you know it.” Julian spat. He didn’t have the energy for this shit; he might as well give the guy an out. “If you got all freaked out and figured all you had in you was some stupid boarding school thing that’s fine. Just fucking tells me. I’m not anyone’s experiment.”

“I’m not…” Dwight looked over at Julian. His voice was quieter, but growing frustrated. “Do you really think I’d lie about that? If I’d lie like that, what would I be gaining from whatever the fuck is going on here?”

“The satisfaction of ruining a Stuart in front of the world press? I don’t know.” Julian kept his voice low, leaning away from Dwight who was starting to scowl.

“Do you really think this is about the house rivalry right now?” Dwight asked. “Maybe you’re the idiot.”

“Maybe whatever happened the other night was scary for you, I don’t know?” He shrugged, nonchanlantly like he hadn’t been mulling it over these past few days. “My time is valuable and I don’t spend it fucking around being some kind of coward.”

Maybe it was low calling Dwight a coward, knowing exactly what the guy had done on Hell Night. Even before they’d said a single civil thing to one another. But Julian was really in a shitty mood today, for which he blamed Dwight.

“If I recall you were the one who was practically begging me to ditch work and entertain you Princess.” Two could play the name game it seemed.

“Don’t call me Princess.” Julian said contemptuously. “You don’t get to call me that, no one does.”

“Yeah well, my time is valuable too, and I don’t like being treated like a distraction for whatever personal drama you have going on Larson.” Dwight stood up straighter, reminding Julian that despite being older he still had to look up to Dwight.

Maybe this anger would explode into something else, whatever it was though both knew it would be the exact moment the press turned the corner to find any of the survival Fs in play. It might have, had Carlos not yelled at that moment.

“Look out!”

Cutting through their argument, the two looked away from the other to see the alligator running towards them. Behind it one worker was cradling a cracked hand, and the other was lying on the ground from where the gator tossed him. One of the wire loops was loosening from around its jaw; the other pole was cracking on the ground like an oversized charm on a bracelet.

Carmen was running for Dwight’s discarded radio, and Carlos was trying to throw himself on top of the gator again.

“Shit! Hold on!” Dwight yelled.

Julian felt himself being grabbed around the waist and hoisting to the side. He landed on something hard and solid, and a little warm. He couldn’t quite believe it.

“You pulled us into the dumpster. You’re trash Houston.”

Expecting another barb shot back, Dwight was quiet instead. “I don’t hate you, you know.”

Julian looked down at Dwight who cushioned his fall with his, well, everything.

“I guess you don’t.” Julian admitted. “I don’t either. It’s just been a shitty couple of days.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t text, but really? What was I supposed to say? And over text?” Dwight asked anxiously. “I’m not really good at this sort of thing. I fight demons and have a terrible grasp of jokes, that’s me. I don’t know what you expect out of me honestly.”

“Neither do I.” Julian let his head drop down to Dwight’s shoulder, sighing. “This is really weird.”

“Yeah.” Dwight agreed, not taking his arms away from Julian.

They heard the struggling from the outside. Someone’s high pitched shriek pierced the air. More yelling. Hissing. Julian wanted to look up but he didn’t know what he’d see. Muttering. Nothing. They didn’t move.

Carmen’s head eventually poked over the side of the dumpster. “You okay in there boss? The Studio 14 wranglers got here. Carlos got scratched so he and the other Animal Control worker are going to the hospital for shots.”

“I’m good.” Julian said, letting Carmen hoist him out of the dumpster. She helped him to brush the dust off his clothes.

“You’re lucky this dumpster is for set designers, not kitchens. A lot of sawdust.” Carmen said as she looked Julian over for injury. “Your manager might have had me fired if you came smelling like week old tuna.”

“Thanks.” Julian said, trying not to look back at where Dwight was trying to climb out of the trash on his own.

Carmen looked between the two of them, asking quietly. “You don’t want this broadcast, do you?”

Julian could have asked what she meant, but that would have been stupid. “Did anyone else but you and Carlos see?”

“The workers were worried about the alligator don’t worry.” She nodded. “Sometimes it’s safer not to let people know.”

Julian looked at her strangely until she broke into a big smile. She looked over his shoulder up to Dwight who was brushed himself, perched on the lip of the dumpster. “Good to see you again summer boy.”

Dwight gave a small wave, the red in his cheeks from not from adrenaline. “Hey Carmen.”

Julian looked Dwight up and down properly this time: messy long black hair, fine pale face, a rumpled uniform tie, long legs in dusty sawdust covered trousers. Oddly he’d never looked better.

Dwight noticed and bit his lip, nervous they’d push him back into the trash as soon as someone walked by.

Yeah, Julian thought. There was something.

Carmen checked with her boss, who shrugged. She offered her hand to Dwight, “You need help getting down from there?”

Surprised Dwight accepted her help and toppled to the ground gracelessly. “Um, thanks.”

They were about to just sort of nod and walk into the sunset with a ‘see you’ when Dwight blurted out, “Do you want to hang out some time or something, with me, or you know… not and…”

Julian considered it for a moment. “Are you going to ignore me again like an idiot?”

“No!” Dwight said like it was a stupid question. Good, he’d hoped it would sound like one.

“Then sure. You have my number.” And that was the mattered settled.

Dwight dropped Carmen and Julian off at the south entrance with the golf cart; looking dirty enough that no one paid him any attention as he waved them off.

When they arrived, Julian’s manager accosted him immediately. What had taken him so long? Where was his other bodyguard? Why did he hang up on her? Carmen detained her while Julian walked up onto the stage; interrupting Lucy Hale’s spiel about a fan meet-up in New York.

Without announcement by the moderator he took his microphone, lounging in the chair like he wasn’t still a little dusty around the edges. “Hello people of the press! How are you all? Lucy! Hi, sounds like a great story. Sorry I’m late, but you will never believe what just happened to me.”

No one ignored Julian Larson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My word document is at 62 pages, and I'm so weirded out with how large this story is now. Dudeeeessss. I'm killing myself with the waiting. 
> 
> I try to give myself writing prompts bc I take it one chapter at a time, building it all under a giant arc. This was originally under my prompt of: "Dwight dives into a crocodile enclosure to save Julian." Then I realized that might be too dangerous, so instead I kept a reptile and added dumpster diving. 
> 
> Next chapter shouldn't take forever, hopefully. They should be "hanging out"- whatever that means Dwight.
> 
> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Elton John


	11. All We Do Is Drive

“You’re not serious about it being haunted.” Julian said, putting his feet up on the dashboard again.  The sun was setting behind them, a dark blue sky hitting the horizon slowly.  The lights of resorts and restaurants were fading as they got farther into the suburban backwoods.

“I never joke about haunted things.” Dwight reached out from the steering wheel to push Julian’s feet down. “Respect the car.”

Julian innocently put one foot back up on his other leg, not quite touching the dash.  Dwight glared but couldn’t spend the whole drive watching him.  Victorious Julian smirked when Dwight looked back to the road with a pout.

“So if it’s haunted why are we going there? Shouldn’t you not want to endanger people from ghosts? That whole white knight shtick?”

“It’s the boatyard where my uncle keeps his yacht, I figured it’d be cool to show someone around who hasn’t already been bored to death with it.” Dwight explained.  He was adamant about the place being haunted despite it being where his Uncle was every week. 

Julian figured this was one of those tests Dwight had always been running back at Dalton to see if someone was possessed.  At least it was nicer than the time he’d filled the sprinkler system with holy water then hit the fire alarm in Stuart.  Julian had a few shirts that would never be the same after that. 

Julian tapped the dash with his shoe when they went over a bump on the cracked road.  Dwight made a pained noise at the smudge it left.

“And he’s okay with you showing some random person around?”

He didn’t know how much Dwight had been revealing about the ‘friend’ who kept tearing Dwight away from work or weekend activities; surely he told his family something, but the _someone_? Well, Julian hoped Dwight had enough sense to either keep his name out of it, or censor it heavily.

“Well I didn’t exactly ask…” Dwight said embarrassed.  “Hey don’t laugh!”

Julian couldn’t help himself, speaking sarcastically. “You’re such a rebel, wow all for me? Gosh.”

“To be fair you’re not some random person; he was with my mom on Parent’s Night and I heard he snapped at some other parents for blaming you for it all.” Dwight said, not as casually as he wanted.  Julian winced at the mention of Hell Night.  Though, considering his nephew was also unconscious, Ford Houston sounded like an okay guy if he was going to stand up on Julian’s behalf. 

Julian wouldn’t let Dwight’s awkward timing bring him down.  “Well I’ve only seen your mom from afar, the rest of the crazy Houston _famille_ is completely foreign to me.  But if he’s anything like your mom, you might be fucked if he finds out.”

Dwight snorted. “Mom might get mad, Uncle Ford bought me this car and my crossbow.  He’d probably just want to know if the girl was hot.”

“So, am I?” Julian asked.

“What?”

“A hot girl?”

Julian couldn’t help but laugh at Dwight’s bewildered expression; even the withering glare wasn’t enough to stop him. 

“You look nothing like a girl, my hair is longer than yours,” was Dwight’s version of a response 

Julian kept chuckling.  “So I wouldn’t be worth your uncle’s fury? I see how it is.”

“Hey that’s not what I said!” Dwight realized he’d been played when Julian’s laughter got louder.  “Oh… you’re an ass.”

“You know it.” Julian wasn’t much for filters.  He took immense pleasure in the fact Dwight knew that.  It was one of the (various) reasons he hated Hummel; the kid seemed to think just because they went to a fancy school everyone had to follow 18th century etiquette.  They were teenagers, some of them young adults! Grow up.

Then again, once he was out in public he censored himself quite a bit.  Everyone’s eyes were on him, even if they didn’t recognise him. He had been uncomfortably aware of this fact when he dropped by the Wizarding World on lunch break.  Dwight had gotten them free butter beer with his park badge before being called away with a lost four year old.

Even though he’d been able to stay incognito there were still too many people.  He had a famous face and a pair of bodyguards a few yards away. The sweetness of the drink couldn’t wash the bitterness from his mouth.  Julian didn’t know the last time he’d spent so much time dancing around a thing like this- not counting the obvious example.

He got a text from Dwight before filming let up for the day.  ‘Sorry about break. Road trip? I’m in parking lot B after 7.’

Julian was hoping it was a ploy.  He ducked out after dinner with Izzy early, but she didn’t mind.  Her hand was on her phone as quickly as his own, texting an ‘omw’.  Though, he wasn’t sure what he’d do about the twins- he gave them the night off but he knew they were probably lurking behind some empty vehicles to make sure there weren’t any handcuffs or chloroform involved.

“You’re not trying to ransom me on national television are you?” Julian asked, walking over to a black car older than his and the driver’s ages combined.

“Wait what?” Dwight looked up from the trunk where he was tossing his work bag.  He had changed back into his normal clothes- well, what Julian assumed was normal for him because he had hardly seen the guy out of any kind of uniform.  There was a lot of black.

“You’re not making a good case for this sketchy road trip White Knight.” Julian said, “You’ve even got the creeper car down.”

Dwight frowned, stopping before getting into the driver’s seat.  “This is a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, very difficult to get a hold of nowadays. It is a beautiful vehicle and you need to apologize to her.”

Julian snorted as Dwight leant on the roof of the car, looking pointedly over at Julian who had his hand on the passenger side door.  Julian realized Dwight wouldn’t let him in until he did it.

“Sorry?” Julian tucked his sunglasses onto his collar, not sure why he was giving into the ridiculous request.  Either way, Dwight was mollified and got in, unlocking the passenger’s side.  Julian got in with a thud, not expecting how low the seats were.

“By the way, why are we back to Wonderland names?” Dwight asked. 

“Because it annoys you.” Julian said matter-of-fact, before buckling up on Dwight’s request.

“Calling you Cheshire is weird though, only the twins really called you that.” Dwight said, taking them out of the space faster than Julian expected.

“So? You could call me something else.”

“If I do that you’ll call me Sir again.”

“Sir Dwight the White Knight, god the twin’s nailed that nickname.” Julian laughed when Dwight wrinkled his nose. It settled into a good banter, especially as it took a long time to get out of the lot despite Dwight’s sharp turns and haywire steering.  If Julian was in any other car he’d probably yell at the driver to cut it out, but this was Houston- ‘bat outta hell’ was pretty apt a description.

As soon as they’d gotten on the freeway he’d asked where they were going. As Dwight explained he glanced out the window; it was the tail end of rush hour, but people were still lingering around the parks.  They weren’t caught in any traffic jam or high energy speeding, it was nice. He could see one of the many resorts with their private lakes as they sped by; it was still light out but the sun was getting lower, teasing night time.  

It was weird, after the blurted invitation yesterday to really decide where to go from here.  But considering Dwight’s flustered expression when he said it Julian was pretty pleased; the non-answer to that ‘hot girl’ question adding to the feeling.  

Dwight was resolutely trying to focus on driving, so Julian, not the centre of attention, started fidgeting in his seat.  He watched the side mirror, tracing the path of a white car behind them.  It was probably Carlos or Carmen making sure Dwight didn’t kidnap him. God he couldn’t deal with this.  He needed a distraction from the boredom.

He started rifling through the compartment in the side of the door, finding gum and a few amulets.  Okay. Under the seat Julian found a ring of PVC piping with salt leaking from it, he could only assume the entire car was set up like this. 

Opening the glove box though was a find, as it was full of CDs, some with sleeves Julian actually recognized as being from the past decade rather than the 1970s.

“Didn’t everyone transfer over to MP3s like five years ago? What is with all of these?” Julian said, pulling CDs out at random.

“This car is a classic; I’m not ruining it with an aux output.” Dwight said.  True to his word there was just a line for the CD player- which apparently was what Dwight was playing right now.  He could have sworn it had been a Dad-Rock station, but no Dwight apparently needed the Greatest Hits of AC/DC to get him through a drive.  

“Can we switch to something from this millennia?” Julian asked. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the music, but he had been listening to a lot of rock bands to find the right orchestration for his film.  After the looping session with his composer on skype he needed something without an obvious electric guitar- there was only so much Metallica samples a guy could take.

He shifted through the CDs, tossing a My Chemical Romance CD back into the glove box- too much screeching for his taste.

“My car, my music- sorry I’m not a fan of the Top-40s, Hollywood.” Dwight said without malice. 

“Well at least one of us actually has a hit on the Top-40s.” Julian said, generously not pointing out the top ten hits of the bands Dwight had in his glove box. “Not that that’s much of an achievement, but I can sing better than most of those divas.”  

“If you’re looking for good singers there should be an Offspring album in there somewhere.  Or Green Day- wait shit that one’s scratched.” Dwight said, changing lanes to avoid an erratic sports car ignoring the speed limit.

Julian shrugged, discarding other albums.  _Mötley Crüe_ \- no; Black Veil Brides- looked emo, no; Kansas- they had one good song; All Time Low- never heard of them; Black Sabbath- took themselves too seriously; Muse- good but his composer had a hard on for them so they’d been part of the looping session; Iron Maiden- the cover art had some weird satanic monster on the front.  He had to know what that was about; maybe the sleeve would say something.

Julian opened up the case and found a sticky note reading ‘Property of Sadie Moore- don’t steal!’ in faded, juvenile handwriting.

“Who’s Sadie?” Julian asked flipping the note up for elaboration, there was none. 

Dwight glanced over to the CD and laughed. “Yeah, I need to return that.  There should be some Cannibal Corpse CDs in there as well; she leaves them in here for when she’s not using her bike.”

Julian raised an eyebrow, “She’s around often?”

Dwight got the hint. “She’s my best friend: she, Morgan, and Lucas keep me sane away from Dalton.  She thinks I make bad decisions and writes amateur geology rants on the internet.”

“Is she also into the occult?”  Julian read the track list; at least two of the songs he knew them from TV soundtracks.

“Yeah, she’s a bit of a witch.  She doesn’t curse anyone unless it’s on purpose though, so you’re fine if you break the CD.” Dwight said one hand off the wheel to moderate his tone. “Accidentally of course.”

“So your crazy friends away from your crazy friends?” Julian asked.

“The heroes away from the helpless would be more accurate.” Not a hint of irony in his voice, Dwight continued. “I don’t have to spend time convincing anyone it actually is a ghost down here.” 

Julian smirked. “I’m going to tell the twins you called them helpless.”

It was interesting to see Dwight look as self-important as he did when he talked about ghost-hunting.  If it wasn’t a rant about protection charms where he was hunched over in manic explanation he actually sat up straighter, spoke clearer, and seemed more confident. 

Julian didn’t remember much beyond the immediate in the Art Hall, but he’d seen glimpses of Dwight, determined to aid his friends.  Julian hadn’t known until later in a therapy letter from Reed, shared with him by Clark, what Dwight had done in the fire.  It was as brave as it was reckless.  He almost wished he’d gotten to know him earlier.

“Tell them, it’s true. They owe me a lifetime of favours.” Dwight said, snorting.

“Wow, that’s an attractive face.” Julian snapped the photo on Dwight’s unlocked phone, the derp preserved perfectly.

“Hey! Delete that.” Dwight didn’t look mad though, he was laughing along with Julian, probably aware he looked ridiculous. 

“What if I just sent this to the twins without context?” Julian asked. “They’d probably die laughing.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair. You know I can’t pull over that quickly to stop you.”

“And that’s why I’m doing it.” Julian said, attaching the photo to the quip: “ _I could be your hero baby.”_ Send.

“They’re going to want to know who took that photo.”

“What happened to keep them guessing? You are a terrible man of mystery,” Julian said, going back to the CDs. “If they ask just tell them it was Sadie.”

Dwight shook his head. “Morgan would probably be a better bet.  He takes photos of us while we’re eating,”

“That’s evil.” Julian remarked, finding the more pop-oriented albums in the glove box. “Wait, you like Panic! at the disco? What are you, twelve?”

 “Of course I do didn’t you see me on Parent’s Nig- wait, actually no, they’re terrible, I think that’s Morgan’s CD.” Dwight said hastily, squaring his shoulder back towards the road. Julian knew he was bluffing.

“Didn’t I see what?” Julian asked, intrigued at the embarrassment Dwight was trying to hide.

“Nothing, nothing. You’re imagining things.”

Julian smiled his nick-namesake’s grin. “Oh now I have to know.  I knew someone made a distraction when Kurt and I left to get Logan out, was it you?”

“And nobody’s ever tried to recruit you to a P.I firm?” Dwight deflected.

“Did you crash Orion Hall with a fucking emo kid anthem?” No response, Julian started laughing. “Oh my god that’s amazing, please tell me someone has video.”

“It was only a distraction because it was terrible; I can’t sing.” Dwight said red as the sunset out the window.

Julian popped the CD out of its vaudevillian black and gold case, replacing the classic rock that had been the soundtrack to their drive. Dwight could only make loud, very vocal, protests because his hands were still on the wheel going 80 miles an hour.  Leaning over the CD drive, Julian grinned when that weird string plucking started; he’d heard it on the radio a couple times in the spring, but not much after that.  “Come on; show off your stuff Houston.”

“You’ll probably film it and send it to all of your Hollywood friends this time.” He flinched like Julian was about to pull out Dwight or his own phone.

“Come on, I’ll try it too.” Julian said, trying to mouth along to the verbose diary-entry lyrics; while he didn’t like the song he was doing a pretty good job.

Dwight rolled his eyes, blurting out with a reluctant and off-tune, “ _guaranteed to run this town, o-O-ooh I’d pay to see you frown.”_

“Stop, stop!” Julian laughed, swatting Dwight’s arm. “Okay I believe you- that sucked.  Oh god, did any of the parent’s sue? They were expecting the overly fluffed warblers but they got a hyperactive emo kid.”

“Not emo, not goth, just like to wear black.” Dwight corrected, switching them to the off ramp; the signs reading ‘gas station 1 mile’. 

“Whatever you say.”

Julian flipped over the CD cover, looking down at the duo pictured.  The suits were nice, but all bands this year were trying that dapper thing out.  Electronic artists in well-tailored suits, rappers in bright orange bowties, banana yellow hair on former rockers turned R&B wannabes- even Haven was being forced into suits by their management, but Julian thought it was lucky for Clark that he dressed up anyways.  It made him almost want to call Clark right now, ask him if Haven was going to wear rainbow t-shirts to the Grammys just to be contrary.  But then he remembered something instead.

“Did you know someone introduced their guitarist to me last year? Event in LA for Clark’s band, the guy is shoved at me and all I could smell was weed. God, what a stoner.”

“That’d be the former guitarist.” Dwight said.

“What?”

Dwight rolled his eyes. “Never mind,” Julian flipped the CD over and realized the guy wasn’t on the album.  What was his name? Rick? Wasn’t important.  Dwight wasn’t paying attention anyways.

They pulled up to the pump at the gas station, Dwight pulling his keys out to silence the engine and the radio.  Julian leaned back in his seat, ignoring the wafting smells of gasoline and wipe fluid.  Poking his head out the window, Julian checked if there was anyone else around. He didn’t think anyone would expect him here, it was some gas station in the middle of ‘who-cares’ Florida. 

Dwight was pumping gas, looking annoyed at the meter which far faster than it should have.  Then again, not like he couldn’t afford it.  Julian got out, crossing round back to face the storefront.

“Where you going?” Dwight asked, looking up from his task.

“Going to get some gum.” Julian shrugged, crossing the small lot to the white and orange windowed building.  Inside there was a bored looking gas attendant with thick brows and blue curls.  Julian was starting to question Florida’s customer service staff’s hair colours.

The attendant was obviously texting under their counter, apparently mentally checked out from what seemed to be a boring job.  Hopefully they wouldn’t care about even looking up to do the transaction.  There were no other customers, just Julian debating bubblegum or spearmint.  He made his choice, bringing it over to the attendant. 

“Cash or card?”

Julian pushed his sunglasses up higher. “Got change for a fifty?”

He picked imaginary fluff off his loose shirt as he waited for an answer; the light, pale silk clean despite not working to combat the ridiculous humidity in Florida. 

The attendant looked up at a policy notice on the wall that Julian couldn’t be bothered to read.  They sighed. “That will be 1.05$” and handed him the last four dollars of change to him in quarters.  It wasn’t Julian’s fault he didn’t carry smaller denominations, he usually used credit for everything.   

As he left he heard some muttering of ‘fucking customers.’ He was about to turn around and yell at them when he saw Dwight mouthing along to something in the car, his eyes closed as he drummed along on the steering wheel.  He snapped a photo, but as it was from his own phone he didn’t send it.

Dwight didn’t notice when he drew closer, though the car was pointed towards the storefront probably for this reason.  Julian could hear him through the cracked window, same voice on the CD but a surprisingly better song Julian hadn’t heard before.  But the other voice- sneaky bastard. 

“ _I don’t mind, take your time I got things to do, besides sit around and wait for you, oh and I hope you do too.”_ Dwight wasn’t trained, so there were rough spots but no cracks.  He was better than a few of those odious Warblers in his opinion.  His voice sounded deeper when he sang, swinging along to the music not effortlessly, but pretty damn well.   

“ _Sarah smiles like S_ \- shit!” Dwight jumped as Julian slid back into the passenger seat without announcement.

 “I knew you were lying.” Julian said smugly. “You’re actually good, keep going.”

“How about fuck no?” Dwight said coldly.  Julian leant back; he didn’t think it was that big a deal, shit. Well if Dwight was going to be a drama queen about it…  

“Fine then.” He held his hands up in surrender. “It’s not that important; I just thought it was cool.”

“I’m not really a fan of the spotlight if you hadn’t noticed.” Dwight said. 

“Could have fooled me by the way you’re always standing out.” Julian countered.

“Occupational hazard.” Dwight said as his way of waving off presumably an arm’s length of uncharged trespassing and vandalism. 

Julian folded his arms over his chest, putting his foot back up on his knee again. “I guess I could say the same thing.”

They had pulled out of the gas station, bringing them back onto the road.  They were off the freeway now, a few businesses littered the road but mostly it was mostly empty in this part of the state.  Julian wasn’t entirely sure where they were, but the streetlights had flipped on and the sun was nearly gone.  It was quiet.

“How much longer until we get there?” Julian asked, his head resting on the window frame to stare at the gravel shoulder. 

“Should be another ten minutes, it’s on a private beach away from the city.  My Uncle likes this dock because not a lot of people know about it.” Dwight tried not to look at Julian. “I figured you’d appreciate the privacy, kind of being a celebrity and all.”

Insulted, Julian shot back. “Kind of? I’m A-List, don’t you forget it.”

“Hard to forget.” Dwight said slyly.  “Considering how much of a ‘big deal’ you are.” It was Julian’s turn to realize he got his pride played. 

“Alright but it better not be some run down jetty with no cell reception.”

“That’s just it! Its high tech but you could not believe the amount of EMF readings I’ve been getting. Usually a place will get warning signs during construction but to have a development with that much activity after a-” Dwight was cut off by a pop shattering the still vening like a windowpane, the wheel jerking in his hands. 

“What the hell was that?” Julian exclaimed, Dwight struggling to nudge the nose of the Impala to the shoulder.  The tires lost traction as they deflated, the car slowing.  It rolled to a halt on the gravel, noticeably lower on one side. 

Dwight made a noise of frustration before getting out and slamming the door.  Julian followed.

The tire had run over some barbed wire left on the road from a recent fencing job.  The fence in question lay a few yard to their right innocently, protecting some fields of peanuts.  Dwight was cursing, inspecting the tire.

Julian knelt down next to him. “Will we have to call someone?”

“Probably.  Get back in; it’ll probably be a wait.” Dwight said reluctantly, reaching inside the car for his cell.

Julian sighed, reclaiming the passenger’s seat as Dwight called roadside assistance.  He didn’t pay attention as he rested his feet up on the dashboard again.  Well this was a waste of time.  Why was he even out here again?

Oh yeah.  He glanced over at Dwight, tight black jeans looking completely oblivious as he said something about tires.  Julian didn’t think about it earlier, but it was actually quite considerate to find a place that out of the way.  On the other hand, it was a long damn drive and now they were stuck.  He’d have to improvise.

“They said it’ll be an hour.” Dwight got back in the car, apologetic.  “I’m sorry.  This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Julian shook his head. “Not like it’s your fault.”

“Yeah well if we were still in the city then we wouldn’t have to sit here for so long.” Dwight said grumbling.  “And it’s late, and I was supposed to have a spare but I used it at New Years when some asshole decided to get back at me for stealing his parking space.”

“New York?” Julian asked.

“Yeah.”

There weren’t any other sounds on the road, just the wind and insects for ambiance: no cars, no tractors, no resort crowd bustle.  The telephone poles had lights every half mile or so, but that left them and the Impala in shadow, lit only by the light on the CD player which was still looping the album from earlier.

Julian put his feet down, turning towards Dwight. “You know actually, it’s good we’re outside of the city.”

“But the roadside-” Dwight’s face coloured.  He shifted in his seat like it was suddenly uncomfortable.  Julian smirked, leaning forward to put a hand on Dwight’s seat.

“Like you really were driving us all the way out of the city just to show me your uncle’s boat. Sure.”  Julian licked his lips.

Dwight looked out the window, but didn’t move away from Julian, a few inches from his face. “I…”

“Don’t be obtuse. Unless you’re a complete idiot this is why we’re actually here Dwight.” Julian said, holding Dwight’s shoulder and kissing the response out of him.

He felt Dwight’s breath hitch as their lips met; he was still almost like he wasn’t sure what was happening, until Julian was jolted forward- Dwight returning the action eagerly. Julian had to grab Dwight harder around the shoulder so that he wouldn’t fall onto the steering wheel, breathing in hard as they kissed.

Julian shifted a knee across the seats so he was over Dwight’s lap.  It was already pretty hot from the humidity, but the temperature was rising fast in the car.  Dwight sucked at Julian’s lower lip, drawing out a pleased tone.  Sinking into the kiss Julian made a mental note to thank Hendricks at some point- good training.

Their chests were pressed together, Julian trying to make Dwight make that low note he’d heard him hit when he hadn’t thought Julian could hear him.  Instead, Dwight tugged Julian’s hips down and both of them made that sound.  He tilted his mouth, pressing down harder only to get Dwight’s hands in his pockets as a response.

He broke away, colour dusting his cheeks as he caught his breath. “Shit Houston, I was worried you were chickening out on me for a minute there.”

“Just didn’t want to be wrong.” Dwight was looking at Julian’s mouth, like he missed it already.

“Because that stops you any other time.” Julian rolled his eyes, settling comfortably with Dwight’s hands pulling his hips against his own.

“Maybe.” Dwight muttered; he cut himself off by kissing Julian again open-mouthed.

If someone told Julian a year ago he’d be in the middle of nowhere, Florida, making out with Dwight Houston in the kid’s monster car he’d probably ban you from his sight, or just disbelieve it with a devil-may-care raise of the eyebrows. Now, well he wanted to at least suggest the idea because this was good. 

Once comfortable Dwight had taken the lead, which in turn made Julian more comfortable- settling in on top of Dwight wondering how much time they’d have until they’d have to stop.  He was good at rushing things…

Dwight pulled Julian down by his pockets, mostly succeeding in slipping his pants off the top of his hips.  With a sound of amusement, Julian wriggled as Dwight didn’t let him go instead pulling him closer.  Someone groaned; palms heated and groping.  The other kept kissing, sucking at a soft bottom lip leaving him fighting to find air not touched by the heated breath between them.  Julian reached down in the impossible space between them toward his belt-

Tap. Tap. The sound came from the glass. 

Julian’s face on instinct turned towards the window but the noise had startled Dwight so badly Julian was knocked off Dwight’s lap over the gear shift and half on his own seat. The stick hitting his ass was not the one he wanted, nor expected. 

He looked up, curling his knees towards his chest to where Dwight had propped his elbow up on the steering wheel, his other hand gesturing madly with the window down.  A flashlight shone right at the two of them, but Julian realized with subsiding panic what Dwight had done by awkwardly blocking Julian from view.

“You damn kids always pick my peanut fields to park on, go somewhere else to get your rocks off.” It sounded like an old man, Julian would assume it was.

“Our car is broken down and we’re not on your property.” Dwight said, “But it is late at night and I have no proof you’re actually a farmer and not a shape shifter.”

It was such a ridiculously superstitious line, Julian would have covered his face in frustration if he wasn’t already doing so to hide.  But for his scepticism Julian was proved wrong.  The guy seemed to get unnerved by Dwight, speaking cautiously.      

“You’re weird kid. Just, next time you want to feel up your girlfriend do it somewhere else.” The guy was still rude though, even as he backed away.

Dwight hesitated, foot in mouth syndrome taking over. “Um actually-”

Julian thumped him on the back, cutting off what probably would be either a gender or name slip which to a presumably-conservative peanut farmer would not be welcome either way.  If he was going to pretend to be a girl to not get outed damn he’d do it.

“Sorry, will never happen again.” Julian said, staying hidden mostly behind Dwight, who twitched at Julian’s faked high-pitch.

The farmer went grumbling back into the peanut field, his stereotypical straw hat flapping away as he walked.  The silence in his wake was unnerving, Dwight mostly confused and Julian mostly mortified.

“Thank god for heteronormativity- I hate you.” Julian said looking flatly over at Dwight. 

Dwight’s shoulders went up, “I was just trying to get him to go away.”

“I had to use my upper register. I sounded like Hummel. What the fuck Houston?”

“How is this my fault? I didn’t summon a peanut farmer, I’m not good at raising.” Dwight protested.

Julian snorted, “Okay we both know that’s not true. We were doing a pretty good job at that together before Farmer Joe came to ruin the mood.”

Dwight flushed, “Is that a tent pitching joke?” He asked.

“Who the fuck says ‘pitching a tent’ anymore?”

“Maybe I do- okay I don’t but seriously I wasn’t trying to get us caught.  I wasn’t the only one enjoying that.” He looked away. “That was nice.”

“Yeah it was.” Julian dropped a self-satisfied smirk, eyeing Dwight up and down, “I’m writing that roommate of yours a thank you card.”

Dwight tried not to but laughed anyways. “Oh god no.  He’d never let me hear the end of it.”

“And that just makes me want to do it more.” Julian said low, crouching forward over the gear shift.  He held his lower lip between his teeth thoughtfully, seeing Dwight’s gaze fixed on his mouth.  Maybe the mood wasn’t ruined after all. 

Dwight was halfway to leaning back in to that soft lower lip when Julian pulled back; a sudden thought just occurred to him.

“Shit, so am I now?”

“Are you what?” Dwight asked, confused.

“A girl hot enough that your uncle won’t mind his boat getting ruined.” Julian teased.

Dwight had the good grace to look sheepish.  “Not like we’re going to find out now.”

“You perv.” Julian snorted, shoving Dwight’s shoulder. “You were totally just looking to find a cool place to fuck around in.  You are a normal guy after all.”

Dwight winced but ended up shrugging anyway, pulling a foot up onto his seat. “That’s good right?”

“It’s hilarious.” Julian corrected, but dug his hand into Dwight’s shirt and kissed him slowly anyways. “And good.  You’re a huge dork, its ridiculous honestly.”

Dwight smiled a half-grin, about to grab Julian’s neck and pull their mouths back together when-

This time when the knock on the window came they sprang apart instantly, Julian tucking his hair over his eyes and Dwight unconsciously blocking Julian from view.

“You two are lucky it’s dark out, if this was daytime at least a couple people would be set up in the bushes with trench coats and binoculars.”  Julian had never been so relieved to see Carmen in his life; he had an image of a paparazzo in his mind for a minute.

“Holy shit.” Dwight said getting over the shock.  “How did you find us?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ve been tailing you guys just in case.  I didn’t have anything to do tonight so I thought it’d be a good idea.”

Julian was correct in his assumptions about the tail earlier on the highway.  The white car parked behind them was empty though.  “And Carlos?”

“He’s marathoning _Sin tetas no hay paraíso_ and making pizza.” Carmen said.  Dwight choked at the title, coughing to regain his composure.

Julian frowned at Dwight but looked back up at Carmen. “You don’t happen to have a spare tire for us do you?”

She smiled mysteriously. “Why yes I do.  I figured something weird would happen on these country roads.”

With Carmen’s help they put the new tire on, calling roadside assistance and cancelling the aide.  The peanut farmer didn’t seem to be coming back and it was past midnight now.  Carmen offered to drop Julian off, but left her boss in Dwight’s seemingly capable hands when she was declined.  She wouldn’t leave however until they did, which Julian did get annoyed at.  She was following from a reasonable distance but now it’d be even more complicated to think up an excuse to pull them over.  

They kept the talk light, but now that they had opened the floodgates Julian knew he’d take every opportunity he could to let Dwight kiss him breathless. 

With Julian’s direction, Dwight drove him to the hotel where he was technically supposed to be living while filming _Something Damaged._ He stayed in his trailer most days, but the night was late, surely it’d be more comfortable to just say stay than subject Dwight to a long drive home. 

However anything beyond Dwight unlocking the door for Julian at the hotel roundabout was not going to happen.  Julian’s phone buzzed, a flurry of texts from the other cast members and various management numbers. 

_911._

_Isabelle’s missing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Facts:  
> -My Self-Prompt for this chapter: "Plan: Yacht and Chill, Reality: Impala and Chill"  
> -I spent 3 days on the kiss because I haven't written guys making out in more than a sentence for like... 2 years.  
> -"banana yellow hair on former rockers turned R&B wannabes" is basically Julian shading Patrick Stump bc it's 2011, Soul Punk's almost mastered, and I didn't give Dwight any FOB CDs so I had to reward myself somehow.  
> -The new telanovella I have Carlos addicted to is a real show called "Without Tits There Is No Paradise"= hence Dwight's bewilderment. Eyyyy Spanish!  
> -My chapter summary:  
> \---bandom opinions  
> \---flirty flirting  
> \---#SadieisMetalAF  
> \---The Tweedles now have pre-snapchat snaps from dwight's phone  
> \---cameo of an overworked plurker who doesn't even read this fic i think  
> \---"oh they kissed holy shit cue the confetti and make a gif"  
> \---Carmen is overly invested in her job  
> \---"Where in the World is Isabelle Montero?" 
> 
> Additional Note:  
> When Julian says: "you are a normal guy after all", I debated about it but Dwight not knowing how to properly respond and Julian being a dick are pretty in character. However I want to reiterate if there isn't a 'person' in his field of interest I still stick with Dwight+Unintentional Celibacy- and with sexuality, mental health, and superstition all mixed up I wanted to make sure everyone knew I'm not brushing this under the rug- just saving it for later.
> 
> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Halsey


	12. It Was Only A Kiss, It Was Only A Kiss

“Text when you get back, seriously. People going missing in this state seems to be pretty normal.” Julian said, looking down at his phone trying to figure out what was going on.

Dwight scratched his face nervously. “I’ll scry for her if it helps.”

Julian held up a hand, he couldn’t do this right now. “Don’t- just… I’ll tell you if we find her.”

Nodding Dwight locked the door behind Julian, the Impala speeding off with too much of a squeal for Dwight to not have slammed the gas. He figured that scrying was Dwight’s way of expressing concern but he couldn’t pretend he believed that it worked. Even discounting rumors about what happened after Anderson’s brother went missing, this was real.

Carmen had already run inside to get her brother, whom Julian could now see coming into the lobby in his green sweats. Like everyone else Carlos looked concerned, worried, and slightly scared. Some others from the cast were in the lobby. Those who had personal security staff had woken them up to be there as well.

Julian joined them around the concierge station. No one really paid much attention to how rumpled he was, just thankful he was accounted for. Marcie hugged him around the shoulders and brought him closer to the desk. Natasha was leading the demands for answers.

“Someone must have seen something, this is your hotel and she was here earlier this evening!” Natasha said, glaring at the man who probably had been planning to get off-shift soon. Not going to happen unless someone found their high profile guest.

“We went to see if Izzy wanted to watch a movie with us, but she wasn’t in her room. She’s not answering her phone, and she’s nowhere in the hotel.” Marcie explained quietly as Natasha continued arguing.

“I’m sorry, we’re doing all we can. Maybe she just went for a walk?” The concierge tried.

“By herself? Without telling anyone?” Natasha asked. Her security guard touched her shoulder but she shook it off. “She has been stalked before, this is a legitimate problem- she is missing, she wouldn’t go anywhere without telling someone!”

Patrick, oddly rational, cut in front of Natasha who was quickly getting distraught. This couldn’t be happening to one of their own again.

“Don’t you have security camera or something?” Patrick asked, the concierge flustered at his tone.

“I can’t just divulge these tape to anyone-”

“Show us or we’ll call the cops and bring a media shitstorm down on your head. We should have already called the cops but we’d prefer to handle this quietly.”

The concierge blanched, “You still need to wait 24 hours before filing a missing person’s report.”

He continued stammering something about policy, but obviously he didn’t want to weather a paparazzi fiasco, even if there was actually something wrong. Patrick just shoved his way behind the desk with the rest of the present cast. Marcie sat down in the chair, clicking the system towards footage rather than live recordings on the home screen. Rocking back and forth, the concierge kept a look out to the empty lobby with a terrified facial expression- though it mostly seemed for show.

It was all labeled, recordings of hallways by floor, exits by direction, and at least 3 separate angles of the lobby. The front veranda also had a wide shot with a close up angle of the entrance with the doorman. The doorman was off for the night, technically no one was supposed to check in after midnight, if they did they got buzzed in with a keycard. There were no logs for Isabelle so they had to search through the timestamps, rewinding until they got Izzy walking out of her room.

Julian and the rest watched as Marcie clicked their friend’s path in surveillance shots. She didn’t seem distressed, hurried yes, but she looked excited. Checking over her shoulder before exiting the hotel, she tapped her phone and went outside. It was around the same time Julian was on the road, which would explain why he hadn’t noticed. Everyone else was probably at dinner as Izzy was sneaking away.

A trendy little green car with Florida plates pulled up. She opened the door and chatted for a second, tapping the toe of her pumps to the side of the door before hopping into the passenger’s seat. That was about six hours ago now.

“So she’s not missing.” Marcie said quietly.

“She didn’t say she was going to meet anyone though.” Patrick said, countering.

“It didn’t look like she was forced into that car,” Natasha said cautiously, but relief washing over her. “Whoever she’s with they’re local so she probably was turning her phone off before going out.”

“But why not call us? Tell us she’s going out?” Julian asked, puzzled. It hurt them all to be out of the loop, but if she didn’t show up tomorrow they’d know it was not as it appeared.

“Whoever they are, I hope they’ll pay the medical bills for the heart attack I had.” Marcie said, hands on her chest.

“The producers are going to have her ass if she isn’t back for shoot tomorrow, she’s on 6am for the soundstage.” Patrick said, to a unanimous hiss of sympathy. Marcie began getting up, all of them still concerned but not in the heart-stopping panic from earlier in the night.

Julian looked back at that green car on the screen, wondering who would make Isabelle worry them all. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t at least texted Clark to say he’d be going out this evening, or if they had flicked on live footage earlier to see him getting out of a tacky black car- also with Florida plates.

He tried to straighten his hair as they all went their separate ways- though Marcie messing it up again by ruffling it kindly. Patrick didn’t say anything, but Natasha shot him a good night when she got out of the elevator. Even if Isabelle seemed to have disappeared out of her own free will Carlos and Carmen flanked him on principle. They continued up another two floors.

Carlos shifted, trying to look professional and menacing in his pajamas, like he hadn’t spent more than a couple hours yelling at soap operas in _español_. “Other than the end, did you have a good night boss?”

Carmen? Julian asked wordlessly. He still wasn’t sure how much either of them specifically knew, Carmen had at least alluded to it, but she didn’t seem the type to gossip with her brother about it, just crack unsubtle jokes in Dwight’s presence.

She shrugged. Julian rolled his eyes. “It was nice. Might be doing it again, but I’m not going to disappear off the face of the earth.”

“Glad you had fun boss.” Carlos said before they entered their floor, splitting off to separate rooms. Carmen chuckled- Julian shot her a look, but wasn’t too mad.

Yeah. Julian thought, curling up on a bed with room for more: definitely going to do it again.

\---

 _“Got home without abduction. Alien, human, or otherwise. My scrying tells me she was in the orange country- she’ll be at your studios soon.”_ Julian read from his phone.

In the middle of the behind the scenes chaos, Julian seemed ambivalent. His legs were slung carelessly over the armrests of his monogrammed actor’s chair. The bustle was all because Isabelle wasn’t back yet so all the scenes for the morning had been thrown into a flurry, trying to get something done without one of the leads.

All the miscellaneous shots were being pushed up, masking the lack of a full cast with some tighter zooms. It might make the show look melodramatic for a few episodes, but not a terrible thing with a drama like theirs. Julian was being called on more, lingering injuries and doctor’s notes be damned. He’d done a short intercutting scene with Alicia, but it hadn’t been that long and the rest of the scenes he did have were all on a different soundstage.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Clark asked, sitting down next to him while they set up for a slow motion shot of Alicia’s glares. The extras were at the food table eating pickles, oblivious to why everyone seemed on edge.

“I hope so.” Julian tucked his phone away, the message on the screen blacked out. “The director is getting really annoying, I haven’t been yelled at about blocking in years.”

Despite an assurance that Isabelle had snuck off of her own volition, they were a tight knit cast. She better have a good explanation for this.

Another ping sounded from Julian- and Clark’s phone. Weird. Clark checked- “wow…”

“What?” Julian said, looking over.

Isabelle, 7:30pm: “ _GTG be back late! See you tmmrw! (dog emoji)_ ”

Isabelle, 9:21am: “ _OMG! I’M ON MY WAY!!! SORRRRRY!!! (prayer hands emoji three times)_ ”

“It was a mass text,” Clark said looking at the messages.

“She must have turned off her phone before they actually sent.” Julian mused. He was glad he wasn’t Izzy right now.

“Better late than never?”

“That’s so going to work on the producers.” Julian said sarcastically.

There was a commotion near the doors. A few people were shouting, angry at whoever had barged in without a proper clear from the soundstage managers. It was a good thing they didn’t have the ‘shooting in progress’ light on.

Clark got up, Julian unfolding himself from the chair to follow. Right on cue like she had heard them talking about her, was Isabelle. She was looking messier than any of them had ever been allowed to see her casually. Everything about her screamed, ‘got dressed in five minutes’ right down to the half-assed concealer over the purple polka-dotting her neck.

Patrick appeared by their elbows. “Odds on how quickly she begs for mercy?”

Julian glared. Patrick raised his hands, “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Clark shushed them as the directors ordered Isabelle, protesting and penitent, towards hair and makeup without the grace of a ‘please’. She said something about how she thought she would be back on time, but they were not having any of it. The atmosphere had gone from one kind of tense to another, everyone hoping the director’s ire stayed on one specific target.

Thrown into scenes, Isabelle had quickly been made up so they could work her to the bone. She had missed a lot of the shooting day, and they skipped lunch to get a lot of her shots done. Julian of course didn’t have to be present now that she was back. Clark motioned to him that he should stay though, and he spent the time sending emails to his coordination crews for the film. Luckily they answered promptly.

“I feel sorry for her.” Clark said, finishing off his water bottle after one of the short but emotional scenes they should have done at 7am. He leaned over so his elbow was next to Julian’s knees.

Julian looked up from his emails. “Hmm?”                            

“Well it’s not like Izzy, and she’s always been on time before. I just think it’s unfair for her to be treated so harshly now.” Clark explained, his hand propping up his chin.

“She was late. And not a little bit but enough we’ll probably have to add another shooting day.” Julian did have sympathy, but now that worry had subsided his pragmatism wasn’t suffocated. “You’re a musician first Clark, so how would you feel if you had to delay a show, telling fans they had to stand around for an extra hour because the bass player was too busy to show up?”

He knew Clark understood, both of them did. It didn’t make the situation any better.

Julian didn’t say it, but he’d almost been in Izzy’s position last night. But he’d made sure everyone knew he was okay, and he wouldn’t have let it impact his work- his craft. Isabelle couldn’t get distracted- none of them could.

“Maybe whoever it is kept her later?” Clark said.

“They’re from around here, they should how traffic. Whoever-” a thought struck Julian. Isabelle being secretive around her phone, all of this happening after the pool, the letter Julian himself had passed along… he looked over at the set, where Isabelle was making up for her mistake by acting her heart out.

“You remember that girl from the other night? The one who stole my drink?” Julian asked, staring at Isabelle, trying to figure her out.

“Yeah,” Clark said. “Jessica, I think. She said something about her dad owning an orange grove.”

 _Orange country._ Shit. This was a mess. He needed to talk to Isabelle.

“I think I know what’s going on.” Julian said, tucking his phone away.

Clark looked at him strangely as Julian got out of his chair and went to get his jacket. “What?”

Julian pressed his mouth into a line. Usually he’d stay out of the cast’s personal business but he had a little experience in these matters.

Clark clued in. “You think it was that girl? That Iz is like you?”

“Maybe. If not, I’m at least better at hiding it. She’s on thin ice and I’m not having her go under.”

“Do you always have to make things so dramatic?”

“When it could mean media defamation and hate mail, yes.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Clark asked, following him out of the studio. It was still raining, fat drops warm in the summer heat. They took a covered golf cart over to the gate.

“What if I’m not? Fucking orange country.” Julian stuffed his hands in his pockets, twitching like when he’d quit smoking after that indie movie.

“Orange country?” Clark hadn’t read the text.

Julian rolled his eyes, “Nevermind. You got any more scenes?”  

“No, I’m done for the day. I was going to hang around and see if Marcie wanted to grab dinner…” Clark hesitated, “but I have a feeling you’re going to need me to help with a dumb idea.”

Julian didn’t say anything, tucking his hands into the crook of his elbows. Clark sighed, taking the ‘yes please’ as non-verbal as it was.

Why had he even though passing a letter from someone who clearly wasn’t a fan was a good idea? Usually he told people he wasn’t a carrier pigeon- why had he just gone along with it? Last time he played go-between it was for Logan, and everyone knew how well that ended up.

Again, it wasn’t that he inserted himself into other people’s lives- but this affected the whole cast he told himself. If Julian was honest though, he felt responsible. He could have said something that night, or warned her about getting involved with people outside of their social spheres.

They let the production assistants drive them to the lot where the trailers were kept, and Julian needed privacy to figure out how to handle this.

\---

“What’s up guys?”

Julian knew once she got back to the hotel he’d be able to talk to her; but Isabelle was pretending nothing was wrong, nonchalantly opening her door and letting them into the suite. It had a full sitting room, plenty of room them all. Julian told her room service would be up with food shortly.

“It’s nice to eat together, long day you know?” She smiled, putting her white jacket on one of the chairs, sitting down.

“That’s not exactly why we’re here.” Clark said.

“I know, it’s completely irresponsible to show up late.” She was sorry, but the way she just crossed her legs and waved her hands ruined the penitence. “I know I messed up shooting, but I texted everyone I swear. I was trying to do the right thing.”

Julian shook his head. “It’s not just shooting. You need to be more careful period Isabelle. You wouldn’t have been ready, what if someone had caught you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Clark looked over at Julian, wondering if he should interject or Julian could handle talking about this.

“Missing shoot to hook up is unacceptable, but if you had been caught the tabloids would either make it a joke or a horror story. You don’t need that-”

Isabelle cut Julian off, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides this happens all the time in Hollywood- isn’t the press still stuck on Katy Perry dumping someone?”

“I know who you snuck out with.”

The room got very quiet. Clark pinched his nose and looked away as Isabelle’s expression grew furious, then scared.

“Julian...”

“I’ve been in show business since before I could walk Isabelle.” Julian gestured, “She’s been hanging around the studio, her license plate on a security camera. She could tweet anything and you’d never get another role as anything more substantial that a college girl.”

Tough love was all that Julian had ever told himself- it was how he managed to get by without breaking down. Hollywood was vicious and anyone who was different, or unique, was either praised or piranha. He knew how the media would market the photos they’d end up taking, call her an experimenting party girl and pretend it was all just a phase; blow up her reputation and call her a slut everywhere from People Magazine to the scum of Reddit. And that was just if this was something serious.

And maybe this was also selfish, Julian protecting himself if he was ever outed. If she was just curious the damage would be done and her ‘gal pal’ would always be brought up in interviews, an example how girls were all straight after all- damaging anything others spoke out against. He wasn’t going to let his friend become a talking point because she was careless with her timing.

“Are you kidding me?” She got up, crossing the room. “I didn’t know you were capable of this.”

Clark opened up his mouth to try and counter on his behalf but Julian wasn’t going to make this about himself- for once.

“I’m worried about you- No, I’m terrified.” Julian said, stepping back to give her room. “It’s not who it is, but it’s too new- and if it’s just a summer thing I don’t want it being spread in every tabloid from here to San Francisco. Missing shoots, falling out with administration, all ending in a giant exposé about a sexuality you may or may not have.”

“You have no right!” She shouted. “No right Larson! This is my life, not yours.”

The doorbell rang before Julian could respond. Clark hurried over to let in the hotel employee, trolley with covered trays they placed on the table with a certain finesse the situation could definitely use.

When the door closed again Isabelle was fuming. “I’m not going to sit down and play nice after that Julian. What the hell?”

Clark was trying to get anyone to eat anything in vain. “Come on Isabelle, we’re just trying to help.”

“I’m not going to miss anymore shoots, okay? Beyond that you just need to know I’m fine.” She said. “I didn’t know you were such a homophobic dick Julian.”

Julian was glad he hadn’t even tried to eat something because he would have choked. The irony was not lost on him.

“Okay, that’s not it at all.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

Clark sighed. “You’re right Isabelle, technically you can do whatever you want. But it’s already causing a lot of problems, and if you had someone to talk to it’d be easier. We could even help.” He shot a look over to Julian, “That’s actually what we were trying to say, not pass judgement and scare you with what _might_ happen. Having secrets like that and no one you can talk to about them can really eat you up, and we don’t want you getting in a bad place over something so new.”

“Who says I want to talk to you?”

“Who else then?” Julian asked. “Jess must trust us at least, I mean she gave me that letter which I have got to guess is what made you stop acting so scared the other week.”

Isabelle looked like a deer in headlights. Julian paused. “It is Jessica right?”

She nodded, shocked that they weren’t just messing with her.

“Well then at least we can cover for you, and you don’t have to scare and mass text everyone if something goes wrong.” Julian said. “You secret is as safe as you want it to be with us.”

“We’re just trying to be good friends, even if some of us aren’t good at making that clear.” Clark said. Julian chuckled, realizing Clark was right. He did his best though it didn’t often seem like it.

“It’s going to be fine, sorry I made it seem like the end of the world.” He forced himself to say, taking her hand.

“I’m scared okay? I didn’t want anyone to know until I was sure.” Isabelle admitted, looking at the floor. “I’m still not sure. But I like her.”

“And that’s okay. We just didn’t want you getting forced to make a decision by the media.” Julian said as Isabelle hugged him, Clark joined in if only to distract them with food before Julian said something callous or Isabelle began to cry.

They got Isabelle to promise not to slip off again without telling one of them, and even offering to be photographed with her if her publicist started getting wind They ate in relative silence, with Clark supplying most of the conversation, but by the time they left Julian felt he’d done what he’d set out to do. It didn’t stop Clark from confronting him though.

The door to his room closed, Julian was going to offer Clark to stick around and watch a movie. Julian was about to open his mouth. Clark wasn’t having it though.

“You don’t think that wasn’t hypocritical?” He sounded calm but Julian knew otherwise.

“What? Helping a friend?”

Clark shook his head, “You know what I mean.”

Julian ran a hand through his dark waves, sighing. “I’m not the one causing PR problems and ruining shoots with my sexualitry, she doesn’t need to know. She doesn’t need to know about me.”

“You’re forcing her to trust you Julian, it might be okay now but it might be easier for her if she knew you actually understood what she’s going through.”

Julian put up a hand. “Clark, I know you’re trying to help but you’re straight and you’re just as compassionate.”

“This wasn’t my idea though, it was yours.”

“So I did this so I could keep some creepy eye on the other queers in the cast?”

“If that’s the way you want to phrase it, sure.”

Julian sat down on the couch wishing he wasn’t having this conversation. Talking with Clark always made him self reflective, and what really bugged him is that Clark was usually right. Doesn’t mean he had to tell Clark that.

“I don’t want to.” Julian replied, every bit the spoiled child he had been raised.

“And that’s your choice. But everything you said to Isabelle I could pretty much say to you. One day this will backfire. You keep too many things to yourself, even from your friends. I’m not saying you should come out, but Isabelle’s going to feel betrayed if you ever do. You know that right?”

“Privacy is a commodity Clark, its worth more to me than one grand coming out. Anyone I’ve walked down the red carpet with has been investigated, interviewed, and interrogated within an inch of her life because of the spotlights on us- but no one has ever found out about anyone I’ve been with behind the scenes- you don’t even know all the names. The less Izzy knows the easier it is for her.”

Clark was skeptical. “Isabelle isn’t the only one who disappeared the other night. Isn’t it just a matter of time until someone assumes the same thing about you and Dwight that they might about Izzy and Jessica?”

“Isabelle was smart to find someone who isn’t important to the gossip bloggers of the world- but the difference between us is that no one can just guess what’s going on with me and Dwight, but she came in wearing a neon sign.” Julian thought privately to tell Isabelle to warn Jess not to wear lipstick so her clothes wouldn’t stain. “No but really, Jessica seems nice I mean that. They might be good for each other, broaden horizons or some shit.”

“And what exactly is going on between you?” Clark transitioned.

“None of your business and it’s going to stay that way.”

“You’ve made it my business Julian.”

“If we need your room we’ll put a sock on the door promise.” Maybe he should also play that Gaga song Carmen kept referencing, it’d be funny.

“I’m actually serious.” Clark said. “Reed is coming down for a visit and from what I know about the three of you in school together, you didn’t exactly run in the same circles. It may not be suspicious to anyone else, but he’ll know something up.”

Well that was a bombshell stuffed with shit. “And you couldn’t have told me this anytime other than now?”

“I didn’t think it would be so much of an issue, but if your privacy is such a commodity…” Clark said hesitantly, trying not to step on his friend’s toes. But Julian was getting frustrated.

“I made out with Cameron four years ago and you never knew.”

“Wait what?” Clark was gobsmacked.

Julian frowned. “So yeah, I’d say I can keep a secret from people I’m close to.”

“I didn’t know Cameron was-”

“He’s not. And it was just a kiss, but you never knew did you?”

“No but-”

“And do you feel betrayed I never told you?”

“Well it’s not like it was-“

“Exactly.”

“Okay then.”

Julian sometimes wondered what he’d done to deserve Clark as a friend. The mood had only gotten tense on Julian’s side, somehow even when worried or furious Clark didn’t make things uncomfortable between them. He did make to leave though, Julian’s invitation of watching a movie never made.

“I trust you’ll do the right thing. See you tomorrow at shoot.” Clark said, hugging him around the shoulder and leaving.

The room was quiet after that. The sounds of the streets from outside the window as loud as Julian’s breathing as he was left with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I developed a plot other than vociferous makeout sessions. Anyways this is the first half of the planned outline for this chapter- I had to split it because it was getting too long and changes too much in tone. The next chapter is much brighter and will probably be edited in full by Tuesday or Wednesday, depending on how much bus writing time I get.
> 
> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to The Killers


	13. His Hands, His Jeans

The next day came. On break from set, Julian was following up on emails and messages in his trailer. Switching from iPhone to laptop he was working on various things at once: the finalized casting for his film, tweeting to his fans, and checking his texts. He had told Dwight that Izzy was okay, but hadn’t let him know that his probably-a-lucky-guess was correct.

Mostly however he was focusing on his film, making sure he had all the plans in place. He wanted to start principal photography later that fall, and if everything was done now he could hand most things over to his Supervising Producer and Production Coordinator.

Sometimes Julian wondered how his life got so complicated- then again, his parents hadn’t raised him to be anything but the best, and with ambition to be even better than that.

Looking between devices, his most recent outgoing messages were as followed:

Larson to IZZY<3: _Got it. I’ll tell everyone you already had dinner. Text Clark when you leave, I’ll probably be asleep._

Jules to St. Clark: _Do you think Haven would be willing to co-write the finale song? I need something with punch since the whole soundtrack is cherrypicking from the 70s._

Julian Larson to Marque Washington _: Finalize payroll, anything I need to sign send via my manager, I’ll be available for skype planning tonight._

Julian to WKnight: _On production break right now. Got ideas?_

A knock on his door interrupted his workflow. “Just a second!”

Carmen and Carlos were stationed on each side of the trailer, so the person had probably already been cleared to be able to get close enough to knock. Weird they didn’t say who it was. Then again Alicia snuck hugs that way so he kept his feet apart in case she tried to knock him over.

“Dwight?”

“Hey.” He said, hands behind his back. He was in his uniform again, but with a trench coat over it all probably because of the sunshowers they had been getting earlier. He had probably come right from whatever part of the park he’d been assigned.

“Did you get my text?” Julian asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“No, was I supposed to?” Dwight asked, digging into his coat pockets for his phone.

Julian waved at him to stop, looking around the corner to where Carmen was standing watch. “How do you say you’re terrible in Spanish?”

“ _Eres malo?_ ” Dwight wasn’t sure why he was saying it until Julian yelled it at Carmen from the doorway.

She spotted him and waved cheekily. “ _Realemente, es ‘que mala eres’ jefe_!”

Julian rolled his eyes and let Dwight in, shutting the door and trying not to be too exasperated when Dwight shook water onto his floor. He was only partially certain it was just rainwater, the guy had a weird amount of holy water at his disposal; and he didn’t even go to Catholic school. The umbrella was left next to the door, some sort of care given to at least not scratch the wood.

“There was a bunch of paperwork to run between the parks and the studios.” Dwight said.

“Really?”

Dwight shrugged. “I volunteered. Thought it’d be better than having all the creepy guys trying to hit on your extras again.”

“Of course.”

Julian closed the laptop and made sure there weren’t any unread messages to get back to set. Satisfied, he ignored the chair at the vanity (where he usually sat when he had visitors to the trailer). Instead he sprawled across the couch, leaving of plenty of room though.

“Would you rather have a balding guy name Martin trying to hit on Marcie because a clip on tie makes him feel powerful?”

“No, but this sexual harassment prevention case isn’t going to hold much water if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“You are as subtle as a brick. Your uncle’s _yacht?_ ”

“It’s a private boatyard! Most paparazzi are on the guard’s hit list after they caught the governor and his mistress!”

Julian smirked, leaning his chin on his hand. “Are you the governor or am I?”

“Now I know why we didn’t get along at Dalton- you’re worse than the twins.” Dwight groaned, flopping onto the other end of the couch. Julian didn’t know if it was because he was actually exasperated or he was just a bad actor, but that reminded him…

“Did you know Reed’s coming down in a few days?”

That got Dwight’s attention. “What? How do you know that?”

“Clark.” He’d been led to believe it was a family visit, but there was no way Reed wasn’t going to at least try to talk to his friend. “They are stepbrothers.”

“I know that.” Dwight said indignantly, “but I hadn’t heard anything, wait, that makes sense.”

“What?”

“Only Ethan and Evan actually believe I’m from Florida, the rest of them think I’m fucking with them. And even then, I haven’t even told them I’m working at the parks this summer- just doing ‘family stuff’.” Dwight picked at a loose tread on his trousers. It sounded incredibly sad.

“Aren’t they your friends?”

“Aren’t the Stuarts yours? Yet you’re avoiding them.”

“I need time.”

“So do I,” Dwight rolled onto his elbow, looking up at Julian from the middle of the couch. “Sadie, you know the one with the CDs in my car? She, Morgan, and my cousin are my home friends. I don’t have to prove anything to them. They let me breathe. Sometimes I can’t at Dalton.”

Julian nodded. “Sounds like my cast. Why do you think I’m not going back?”

“You should probably have someone other than famous people to talk to though- you’ll turn into an egotist.” Dwight commented, hiding a snort. “Wait…”

“Ha, ha.” He said monotone. “It’s not my fault I’m just better than everyone else.”

“And we’re back to you being terrible.” Dwight was smiling though.

“If you think that why don’t you just leave?”

“Do you want me to?”

Dwight’s arm was on the back of the couch, pulling up and close to Julian. Hilariously, if he would be doing this to Dwight the guy’d be flustered; but with him here he was tentative, but not nearly the mess Julian thought he’d be.

“No.”

Julian didn’t want to name the sound he made when Dwight kissed him. It was slow but heated, pressing closer to nip into Julian’s personal space. His other hand was at Julian’s neck, his thumb under his jaw holding fast- if he put a little more pressure Julian knew he might have trouble getting rid of this guy by the end of the summer.

It was an imagined heat in the trailer, not actually getting hotter, but it felt that way as Dwight tried to be quiet and Julian didn’t succeed. Unlike the other night, the windows were covered and the door was locked. Thank god they were, Julian thought as he pulled Dwight over the growing bulge in his pants.

Julian’s hands were untucking that ridiculous uniform shirt, wanting to snap the buttons off. He almost did before Dwight moved, ducking to the side of Julian’s neck. Maybe Dwight thought it was a mistake to use teeth but Julian elbowed him fiercely when he tried to just kiss there.

“The biting is good. I’m not made of glass. Just don’t leave marks.”

Dwight looked at Julian flushed, “What?”

“Are you really being judgmental about this? You’d pour salt all over this place if I let you.”

Dwight would have probably said something about that being common sense; Julian distracted him by sliding his hand under Dwight’s waistband, warm skin against warm skin. Dwight leant into the touch; his face was still red to Julian’s laughter. Revenge was had quickly however, Julian groaning as Dwight tugged his loose collar down to mark his collarbone.

Thank god neither was going into this blind, or it would have been over quickly. Julian’s back against a couch cushion with Dwight’s hips hard against his. He wanted less clothes now, heart pounding in his chest as he breathed in the heady air.

Dwight’s thumb pressed into a spot behind Julian’s ear where his neck met his skull, making him groan: long and low.

“Yes, there.” He gripped him harder, shifting to get more friction.

There was a knock at the door. Dwight hesitated- “should I…?”

“If we’re quiet maybe they’ll think I’m not in.” Julian whispered, looking up from underneath him.

The knock came again. Julian ground up, tightening his grip. Dwight almost whimpered. It would have been hilarious if they weren’t trying to be quiet.

The third knock was louder, “I know you’re in there Julian!”

“Shit it’s Clark, we’re having dinner with producers.” He’d forgotten about that. Any thrill Julian could have gotten off of once again evading his peers was ruined.

“Do I have to hide?”

Dwight was looking around, almost hurt by the situation. Julian rolled his eyes, that lost kitten routine was bullshit considering what he was pretty sure Dwight would do to him if he asked. “Just get behind the screeen in case someone’s with Clark.”

Julian got up, tugging a robe on instead of trying to find his shirt. The navy blue uniform shirt was quickly collected though and joined Dwight behind an expensive looking japanese screen that Julian had as a gift from set designer a decade ago. He felt pragmatic about it- the screen or making dwight hide he wasn’t sure.

“Yes?” Julian asked, opening his door.

Clark was looking at him disapprovingly. “You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

“That’s because you know what you’re supposed to be listening for.” Offhanded, good, keep it casual.

“Julian…”

“Clark.”

Clark shook his head. “We’re leaving in five minutes, it’s a bit of a drive. Just, don’t come looking like that.”

“Like what?” Julian said impishly.

“You know what.” Clark sighed. “Five minutes.”

“Yeah sure.”

He closed the door quickly. Dwight peeked out from behind the screen, his shirt back on after hearing the exchange. Julian went to the wardrobe behind the screen, putting a couple of things on a hook quickly before turning to Dwight.

He smirked, hands braced on Dwight’s knees, “How quiet can you be if I try something quick?”

Sitting on the stool there, Dwight was confused; hair wild, and lips red and open slightly questioning. Julian liked that look on him. It’s not that it was totally unlike anyone else he’d ever inspired that look in, but to see that expression of momentary ignorance framed by black rather than brown or blonde hair was comforting.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’ll be quick.”

“Um, okay- woah sh-!” Dwight was surprisingly good at holding his tongue.

True to his word five minutes later Julian stepped out of his trailer looking completely respectable. “We’re going right?”

No need to explain what happened to Clark, its not like he would be around in another five minutes when Carmen would help Dwight escape out the back way with a knowing smile. And Julian certainly wouldn’t share the “!!!” text. He just licked his lips, popping an imaginary bubble to annoy Clark (who was not annoyed) and smirked.

Clark looked at him questioningly but Julian just slid his sunglasses on with a smirk.

Good day. But off to the producers now, he had a different job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it'd be cheap to put in ANOTHER interruption when in my timeline notes Izzy's getting laid for the third time now. Thought I'd throw them some semblance of a bone but I'm worrying about OOCness again. If anyone thinks there's ways I can improve it feel free to say so.  
> Also the base of the skull thing is adapted from something a friend told me once- it's like scratching a cat, there's just 'that' spot that gives a little oomph.
> 
> Edit 02/27: Chapter Named, Credit to Halsey


	14. Adolescent Strike-Force

"What the hell? You're kidding." Sadie's head poked up from the busted countertop.

"I said not much happened!" Dwight insisted, wishing Sadie'd go back to listening. They still didn’t know if the noises were a poltergeist or mice. She wasn't going to drop it though.

"Dwight, he’s a world famous actor- a critically acclaimed actor! And he ble-"

"Who I go to school with.” Dwight interrupted, “I'm really regretting telling you this."

"Well to be fair I had to pull it out of you."

"It’s not a big deal!"

"Uh uh, it's a deal. Maybe not monumental but it's making me want to get hired at Universal now."

"No one asked you Morgan!"

Dwight stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to disappear but his height and being the subject of the discussion wouldn't allow for that.

Sadie looked up, her goggles slipping, "You were safe though?"

Dwight shuffled, "It was kind of sudden. And it’s not like it was _real_ sex."

"Thomas I swear…"

"Do you have to Thomas me?" Dwight groaned.

Sadie kept talking anyway, "Oral sex is real, _Thomas._ We didn't research all that shit in middle school just to blow it getting blown by Julian Larson- you don't know his history!"

"We? Sadie, you don't even have a dick."

Everyone was quiet for a second. Morgan looked like he wanted to say something but he changed his mind. "I agree with Sadie."

"We mostly did that research to annoy the Baptist kids." Dwight protested.

"And you're Catholic, if you're going to flout the catechisms about premarital relations and homosexuality, you might as well flout the one about condoms."

"Um, guys, can we talk about something else?" Lucas asked vaguely green. He had been sitting on the kitchen stool farther away, trying to ignore the chatter.

Dwight tried not to look too grateful. "Yes! Please!"

"You are an innocent and I love you." Morgan said ruffling Lucas' sandy blonde hair like he was a puppy.

"Uh, I just don't want to talk about my cousin's sex life. Okay?"

"Sure." Morgan relented though and opened up their grimoire with a nonchalance only he could achieve. Sadie motioned warningly that she'd be lecturing Dwight later. Until then they let Morgan enact anime tropes, pushing his tinted lenses up his nose before imparting his wisdom.

They were at the Newmann place again. The renovators had finally started work but the four of them wouldn’t let them go further until the place was cleansed. Morgan and Sadie had tried to break in yesterday and swore they saw something in the kitchen, it even dropped some tile on Morgan’s foot. So now they were back with the Walter-Houston cousins, snuck in while the renovators were on lunch break. Dwight was guilty he’d missed so much this summer, but he was working on it.

The house had always been an awkward part of their gated community. The Newmanns were those sort of eccentric rich people who never went outside, but you’d want to try and figure them out Hitchcock style. Lucas’ sisters said it was like there was someone watching them when they played in front of the house, even though the couple was in the Keys right now. You always should listen to children when they feel the presence of the supernatural. But they hadn’t been allowed into the house proper, so drastic measures were called for.

"So if this is a poltergeist the proper incantation to remove it from furniture is this Latin one, but if it’s the whole house our Massachusetts contact suggested to use the language the ghost probably knew in life.” Morgan explained, looking for feedback. “So cursed object, or general curse?”

“What if it’s a malfunctioning ward?” Lucas asked. “Then it might be the Newmanns- but I don’t know where they’re from. Spain? Guatemala? Mexico and Wales?”

“I’m the only one with that mix,” Sadie said, leaning over the counter to look at the book. “I heard Mr. Newmann at the postbox once- he’s Anglo, just really tanned.”

“He could just have a really good accent!”

“Anyway!” Dwight said, “It’s the ghost not the Newmanns we’re concerned about. We’ll do Spanish, Latin, and English, just to be sure. Unless there’s a stipulation about saying it more than once?”

Morgan shrugged, “nah.”

“Then we’ll read simultaneously; I’ll take the Latin, Morgan you take Spanish, Sadie you got English?” The two nodded. “Okay, and Lucas keep a lookout for the renovators. All of our parents are at work so if we’re caught it’ll be it least a few hours until anyone can bail us out.”

“Do we have it copied? I’m not having you do sight translation again. Remember last time?” Sadie took the book from Morgan and scribbled out her lines on a post it note.

“This is not like the camping trip, I swear.” Dwight said a little too quickly.

“’ _Malevolence be banished, I order it to be so. Maliciousness become blessings, then I will let you be.’_ Pretty straightforward.” Morgan read out. “We have to chant it Beetlejuice style.”

“Do we need anything else? I have some jasper.” Sadie dug into the pockets of her cargo shorts. “Um, I mean there’s also tiger’s eye and amethyst but I don’t think we should conflagrate between quartz.”

“Put it on the counter, I have some heather, and after we’re done we’ll burn the sage.” Morgan copied out the chant for him and Dwight as well, turning back to check on Lucas who was peeking out the door. He shot the three a thumbs up and they started.

“ _'_ _Malevolentia exulet esse decernimus. Fiunt benedictiones malitia ergo dimittam_ _vobis_ _’_ ” They read in triplicate, language and repetition wise. The three by three would probably only strengthen their banishment of whatever was living in the house uninvited. The pile from Sadie’s pockets sat on the counter in front of them, two reading off post-it notes. They finished their chant and Morgan lit the sage. Satisfied, Dwight turned away from the counter and made to leave.

Nothing seemed different about the kitchen, no thunder or lightening, or even ambiance change. Maybe it just smelt smokey from the sage.

“Did it work?” Lucas asked.

No one had a particular answer but Morgan kicked a floor tile. “It’s not killing me so I think it worked.”

“Great, who wants pizza?” Lucas smiled, tucking Sadie under his arm and sneaking them out. They left the jasper and heather though, it would only keep the presence away. It was the neighborly thing to do.

Outside Morgan’s house, Sadie decided to start in on Dwight again; clearly not content with what Dwight had said earlier.   

"If you're going to do it again-" 

"I'll be safe, yes Sadie. Can you cut it out?" 

"I'd be more worried about Larson being an incubus honestly." 

"Again Morgan no one asked you."

"Guys!" Lucas whined, opening the side door to the Powell house. "I really don't want to hear about whoever Dwight's dating. No offense Dwight." 

“None taken." 

Morgan, without a change in tone, looked over at Lucas. "If sex was dating I would have more exes than a tic tac toe board." 

"Are you serious? I thought you only made out with Marianne Kelly!"

"You will never know Lucas my friend." He clapped Lucas on the shoulder, taking a pizza box from him as he went in through the side door. Sensing a much more in-depth conversation, Lucas ducked in, talking louder than Sadie purposefully. The door slammed shut, leaving Sadie and Dwight to talk on the side deck near the door.

Dwight didn’t look at her directly. “I haven’t really planned any of this, I just go along with it.”

Leaning against the stucco wall, Sadie sighed. “It was your idea to go driving the other night, what were you expecting a guy who has been flirting with you since the haunted ride incident to think?”

“I don’t know.”

Sadie was quiet, linking her arm through her friend’s. Dwight leant his head down onto hers. He remembered when they used to be the same height, that was a long time ago.

“I hope you don’t think this is going to last beyond this summer. I don’t want you ending up hurt. Or else I’ll curse him.” Sadie leant against him, speaking softly.

He shook his head. “I think it’s because I know. He doesn’t really have to risk anything on me, or open up. I won’t run to the press because my mom would kill me, and anyone who really matters wouldn’t believe me.”

“Dwight…”

“Sadie, I, I don’t think it’s really anything more than well… I don’t know.”

She looked up at him, forcing him to look at her. “You’re not falling for him, are you?”

Dwight blushed but shook his head. “I, I don’t think so. It feels like with Todd- not that I’ve been in love, but I imagine it’d be something more.”

She looked caught between sad and relieved. She tucked his arm around her. “He’d probably be pissed if he knew we knew.”

“You guys don’t count. And I think Clark knows, so we’re even.”

“Clark Sawyer, from _Haven_?”

“Reed’s stepbrother.”

Sadie snorted. “I don’t even know what your life is right now Dwight. It’s like a sprite decided to mess with your luck, and now you’re halfway to getting laid- but it’s by a swore foe.”

“The house rivalry was never that bad!”

“It was totally that bad. You covered their entire common room with black ink to track possessed footprints. He probably slipped and fell to get a face full of ink- and now he’s suc-“

“Sadie!”

They were both laughing now.

“Come on, let’s go in and actually include poor Lucas in the conversation.” Sadie said, pulling him down into a hug before forcing him to get the door.

“Okay.”

Lucas and Morgan were already halfway into a pizza when they got to the kitchen.

“Hey so what were you saying earlier about that British girl- the Hanover’s sister?” Morgan asked, mozzarella standing out on his dark face- somehow he had managed to get it in his hair. Lucas had it in his hair. Neither Dwight nor Sadie chose to question it- some mysteries were easier left alone.

“Or Van Kamp- someone from that school anyway.” Lucas said.

The subject matter wasn’t settled, but Dwight was glad his friends seemed to be okay to not grill him on it any further for now. Instead he elaborated on what he had said before Sadie started in on his love life. That he wanted to try and introduce Reed to them; and an email he’d gotten from Laura Bancroft asking for advice on a mysterious candy bandit she was tracking in the local village. Both were satisfactory conversations, until the next time Sadie tried to get him to open up that is.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter because I have so many ideas but I don't want to abandon my semi-plot just to have them jump into bed together for 6000 words. Though that would be fun.  
> Notes:  
> -Sadie and Dwight's friendship is even more precious to me than Dwiladie.  
> -I promised I wouldn't make this a supernatural genre fic, so I left it up to personal taste if the hunt actually stopped a ghost or it was just bullshit.  
> -Morgan was totally fucking with Lucas, he is not some secret player (truthfully he's a romantic waiting for the ONE so there).  
> -Chapter name credit to Gerard Way


	15. The Friction in your Jeans

“Shit.”

“Do you like that?” 

“Of course I do, why’d you stop?”

“Sorry.”

Someone’s trousers were on the hotel floor, blankets strewn about.  The two were panting, grasping at each other with hungry looks. Their bare skin was on display so plainly that if you glanced down it wouldn’t be fit for television- which it wasn’t.

“Cut!”

“What now?” Alicia flopped back down onto the hotel bed of the set. Julian was standing by, ready to burst in on Alicia’s character with terrible news. He couldn’t help but snort.

“I love the energy you’re bringing but we’re on ABC, not HBO. Come on guys, don’t make it pornographic.” The director yelled.

“It’s literally a sex scene. How is it not pornographic?” Alicia accepted a robe from wardrobe, covering up her bra.  Julian shrugged when she looked to him for help. 

“I don’t know, maybe you’re just too good at it.” Julian held out a water bottle to her before they consulted with the directors to start the scene over again.

Julian’d been in a good mood all day. He had his film handed off to his producer on the ground; the catering company had actually provided something edible for lunch; and he was probably going to get laid. Hopefully. If his life wasn’t one big series of blunders.

“Action!”

The scene started up again, Alicia doing her best to be sexy- but not too sexy. Her scene partner was just… there. Julian felt sorry for the guy, it was easy to be overshadowed by Alicia- especially given she was so beautiful. Compared to the guy the casting director had set her up with, he was a boring sack of potatoes.

He didn’t really know where the show was going right now under this particular director- but it was a one off episode. Hopefully it’d be filler because everyone felt so out of character.

“Grant! What are you doing?” Alicia shrieked in character, grabbing blankets up to herself. Julian said his lines (a lie to her about Michael being in a car crash but really he was trying to protect her from the liar she was dating). Julian grabbed her, wrapping her in a jacket and pulled her out the door.  That scene would then intercut with the running explanation they’d filmed earlier.

“That’s a wrap.” The loudspeaker announced.

“That was crap.” Alicia muttered.

Julian laughed as she got out from under his arm, “Yeah, but any scene you get to show off how good your personal trainer is…”

“Cut it out.” She laughed, getting her shirt back from wardrobe. “You just wish it was Grant in this scene. I know you’ve been getting bored with how small your role is this season.”

“I would do a better job than that guy.” Julian said. “But don’t give yourself so much credit, you’re not that hot.”

She elbowed him. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m amazing.” He said.

 “Hey Izzy!” Alicia yelled.  Isabelle was walking by on her phone, making her way out the door. “Want to go running with me and Natasha later?”

Julian didn’t have to bet who she was texting, her entire stance springy and smile wide. Isabelle was caught off guard, but quickly recovered.

“No, I’ve got plans sorry.”

She pocketed her phone and kept going towards the door. Alicia cut her off though.

“Hot date? It’s that guy who left the wicked marks the other day right?” Alicia smiled.

Isabelle looked over to Julian for a second before shaking her head. “No, I just don’t feel like going for a run.”

“Oh come on, I’d love to meet him. If he made you miss filming he’s got to be good.” Alicia said goodheartedly. “He got a brother?”

Julian cleared his throat. “It’s none of our business.”

Alicia rolled her eyes, “So do _you_ want to come running with us then?”

“I actually have plans as well. “ Julian said, “We’re not in the middle of nowhere, there’s more things to do than hang around on back swamp trails.”

Julian leant against the doorframe, trying to motion Izzy out with a glance. Alicia still blocked the way.

“Aw no way, you’re both off? Wait- are you two hooking up? You’ve both been so hard to reach lately-”

Julian and Isabelle looked at the other with a frown. “She wishes.” “Not a thing.”

Alicia sighed, “Fine, but really guys, we have got to hang out more. Stop bailing on us.”

“If you wanted to spend time with us you could always get dinner with Clark, Marcie and me.” Julian offered.

“Didn’t you go to a place that served deep-fried peanut butter squid?”

“Southern Pacific fusion. It was surprisingly good.” Julian said.

“You’re weird.”

“It’s usually Marcie’s choice, blame her if you want to.” It wasn’t always Marcie, but she certainly got a kick out of the press trying to decipher her mental state based on menus items; served them right for following them to dinner.

Isabelle was halfway out the door, trying to get Alicia away.  Julian took this as a good chance to leave as well.  “See you tomorrow Alicia?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Julian took Isabelle by the arm and led her out before Alicia could come up with another question. They usually didn’t think twice about asking about everyone else’s business; it wasn’t anything person. The cast was pretty close, even when it came to dating.  Although having lines that shouldn’t be crossed might have to become a thing.

“Thanks.” Isabelle said as they got through the gate towards the parking lot. Julian smiled, told her it was nothing.

Carmen watched the pair of them from the black car with local plates Julian had decided she’d drive him around in.  He knew she was there, he could hear the faint sound of a Gaga tune behind the tinted windows.  She didn’t honk or make any announcement she was watching them.  Carlos was somewhere behind them, checking no one was following them.  The twins were expensive but very worth the investment.

“So where is she meeting you?” Julian asked.

“I told her just the outer rim of the parking lot.  That way if someone does see us, we’ll have security close by to shoo them off.” Isabelle said, sounding proud of her plan. 

“Okay.” Julian thought it was a little sloppy, but short of CIA evasive maneuvers he didn’t really have a better idea. “Where you going?”

“Jess was going to show me around her estate.”

“An estate? You’re dating a girl with a place big enough to be considered an _estate?”_ Julian teased. “You golddigger.”

“Hey come on, it’s a farming thing.  It’s not like it’s a mansion.  She’s down to earth.”

“Says the Hollywood actress.”

Isabelle laughed, pushing him away but still letting him hold her arm. “You’re a jerk.”

“We wouldn’t get along so well if I wasn’t.” Julian quipped.

He looked about for a green car, figuring it would look similar to the one Jessica drove in the security tape from the other night.  That might be it, a couple lots away weaving through the theme park traffic. Isabelle sighed.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

“I was thinking about what Alicia said. How she thought we were dating each other?”

“What of it?”

“I don’t want to impose on you, but if we do get photographed right now people might just assume…”

Julian tugged her closer to him, “I wouldn’t mind.  If it helps occupy the gossip columns- you know I don’t want you in there for anything you’re not ready to label yet.”  Not that he didn’t have a personal interest in it either, but if she didn’t know they were using each other it wasn’t so bad.

“Not like there haven’t been rumours before about inter-cast dating before.” She said; then paused. “Alicia also said you were gone the other night as well… are you actually seeing someone? I wouldn’t want to get them mad.”

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll just call this a lavender marriage and you’ll be fine.” Julian brushed a curl from her shoulder. “Besides, whatever your taste level Florida is the last place I would ever be looking for a girlfriend.”

“Lavender-?” Isabelle didn’t get to ask her question though. The green car was most definitely Jessica.  It drifted briefly across the lot before speeding up to the curve they were standing on.

“Hey hey pretty lady, ready to have your- uh hi.” Jessica said, opening the side door and noticing Julian. “I mean, just here, in the neighbourhood. How you doing? Anything I can do for you fine folks?”

“It’s okay Jess, he knows.”

Jessica’s deer in the headlights rambling ceased. “Oh thank god, Iz I nearly had a heart attack. Don’t do that shit to me.”

“For the record you are a terrible actress.” Julian looked over at Isabelle, “Don’t let her near any paparazzi, she couldn’t fool a concussed fifth grader.”

“Okay, to be fair I could probably fool a concussed fourth grader.” Jessica said, a smile on her face as she propped the door open wider.

“I sincerely hope so.” Julian said, accepting a small hug from Isabelle before she stepped into the car.

“Don’t worry, I have no plans at all to be anywhere near photographers for the next twelve hours.” Isabelle assured him, closing the door with the window rolled down.

“I’ll call in a tip for them to chase Nathan if you need to.  Text me if anything happens.”

“A lot of things will happen, but nothing you’ll want to be texted about.” Jessica snapped her fingers like she was being smooth. Julian figured it was probably good the two of them had met while drunk out of their minds.  Then again, it’s not like he could really judge considering the company he was keeping nowadays.

“Goodnight Jules.” Isabelle waved.

“Night Izzy.” He peered through to Jessica who was pulling the car out of park. “Jessica.”

“See you!” She said brightly, saluting him before peeling off from the curve with far too little care for parking lot speed limits.

A car horn from behind him told Julian it was probably time to take off. Carmen was waving from the gate, radio off and engine already started. 

“Do I really need a ride to the other side of the parks?”

“You want to walk?” She asked. Her brother climbed in the passenger’s seat. “You said you wanted to try and annoy him on shift so the service entrance isn’t an option.”

Julian sighed. He wished he wasn’t so contrary, but then again life might not be so fun that way.

It was still bright out, not even six o’clock.  For summer that meant another few hours of sunlight, with the same of an open theme park.  He knew Dwight got off early tonight, but the park was still pretty busy for a Wednesday.

He slid his sunglasses back on, a wide hat, and the leather jacket he’d stolen from wardrobe- might be Patrick’s. The obligatory celebrity disguise in place, Julian set off into the park with the pass the cast was given. It looked exactly like every other season’s pass. So much for celebrity perks.

People were congregating around roller coasters and gift shops. It was hard to walk without bumping into someone.  There were shoppers with huge bags, those in swimsuits coming from hopefully what was a waterpark, and a striking amount of pre-teens with cellphones their parents shouldn’t be paying for.

Carlos was keeping up a steady banter, making them a part of the park. Carmen kept the illusion of texting, head down but her eyes up and alert. She had her earbuds in but there was no music playing.  Julian wondered if she was doing that just in case another alligator escape happened; though it might end up being a mauling in this enclosed a space.

It was still a bit of a walk to the Wizarding World, but they could see the towers rising up above them. Julian still found the fake snow amusing for the summer heat. Maybe he could scam some free drinks off Dwight’s park badge. The sun had been unforgiving today.

That was when it happened: the gasp of recognition Julian knew so well he could hear it over the din of the crowds. To their right, a few yards off was a group of teenaged girls with smiles growing bigger by the second.  Too big actually- manic grins actually- they had spotted him.

“Oh my god Becky, Becky, it’s Julian Larson!”

Shriek it any louder why don’t you? Julian asked himself. He didn't know who started moving first, but out of the two of them Julian knew she and her friends could go faster. They couldn’t be older than fourteen, thirteen even. Carlos and Carmen could easily take them down, but the girls were all shrieking, and of course teenagers.

"Boss?" Carlos was already turning Julian around. Another girl had noticed, and her boyfriend? Julian couldn't appreciate his broadening appeal as the group doubled in half the time it took them to duck through strangers.

"Time to run."

Carmen grabbed his arm. Julian didn't see who they were knocking over and upsetting the shopping bags of. His hat flew off, distracting a couple of them in a very _Life of Brian_ -esque manner. Not that he was a big British comedy fan, but he’d seen some clips on Youtube, it seemed apt given the acomedic take his life was taking at the moment. If losing the jacket meant they’d start a fistfight over it he would throw it off in a heartbeat, but it belonged to wardrobe. He’d distract them in a heartbeat but wardrobe had been on edge since someone decided to eat Cheetos near the undergarment section.

"Side entrance!" Carlos said to his sister, her steps not even slowed as they half-dragged their boss.

There was a hole in the wrought iron fence to the Wizarding World. Surrounded by ivy, it was big enough for two people, maybe more.  Hopefully, it was enough to slow them down.

Carmen stepped in front of them, elbowing her way through. There were a lot of strollers here; they probably wouldn't get away with knocking those over.

"Carlos, let him run on his own. We need to be careful."

Julian could hear the fans behind him, but they were farther away.

"By the cart," Carlos pointed out, letting Julian overtake the two of them.

"Hide there."

"Got it." Julian would have ducked under the cart, if not for the tall, black and white wall he ran into.

They skidded, wobbling for a second but the guy's stance was pretty solid. Appreciatively, he looked up and then snorted. "Just the loser I was looking for."

"And you're the damsel in distress I was hoping wouldn't show up with half the park after you.”

“I’m a people pleaser, sue me.” Julian looked behind him. "Now do that white knight shit quickly before I'm turned a celebrity door mat."

"Say please.”

“Save me Dwight Houston, you’re my only hope.” His voice was mocking and high-pitched.

Dwight was silent for a second, looking between Julian and the quickly growing mob over his shoulder. “Shitty reference accepted. Move.”

The group of fans, if they could be called that, was getting closer. Julian was thankful when he saw the two of them corralling people back.  Carlos nodded at Dwight, who saluted as he led Julian in a run.  Carmen overturned a garbage can and made half the preteens stop in their tracks.  Some angry Spanish was yelled, someone was called a goat- or cheese- Julian wasn’t sure.

He was still running though, following Dwight to the Staff-Only door on the side of one of the main buildings. He knew he could text them once they got the crowd dispersed.  They couldn’t risk being followed though, so the door wasn’t held for any longer than it took for Julian to slip in under Dwight’s arm.

The automatic door slammed shut behind them. Dwight breathed heavily as the noise pancaked immediately.

“They can get into this creepy underground lair some other way right? It’s not all key card access?” Julian asked, thumbing his phone in his pocket like a lifeline. He’d been chased by fans, paparazzi, a drunk on Hollywood boulevard, a stalker… he had never liked it.

“I can buzz your bodyguards in, but I think we should hide out until the mob dies down.”

He started walking down the hall, in what Julian could only assume was a ‘stealth’ walk.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought the staff room would be safe, there shouldn’t be many people around. And there’s couches.”

“The height of luxury.”

“Hey I don’t _have_ to hide you.”

“And yet here we are.”

They turned the corner. Julian saw the label on the door before Dwight opened it. Staff-Only as well, despite the entire building labeled that. It seemed like overkill.

Dwight started in, Julian on his heels. “Oh hey Christa, didn’t know you were here.”

Julian caught a glimpse of a middle aged woman in a Universal Parks uniform, sharing a can of chips with two other women of varying ages. She set it down, “Hey Dwight, you on lunch?”

“No, I just, uh gotta go.” Dwight said trying to back up but stumbling. Julian tried to help him up but then that round of gasps started again.

“Oh my god! You never told us you were friends with- oh Julian I just have to get your autograph, my daughter is your biggest fan.” Christa said, standing up with the two other women speaking over her with just as much enthusiasm.

“Sorry, we have to get going.” Dwight said loudly, not even grabbing Julian by the arm but fully pushing him along by the shoulders down the hall.

The women didn’t seem to get the hint to leave him alone. Julian personally hated when people thought they could just address him by his first name, especially whenever they wanted something out of him. Normal fans, or people on twitter, sure he knew it was a way of connecting with him and feeling like they knew him- but they didn’t. He didn’t even like when Hummel called him Julian as some damn show of camaraderie, like he didn’t hate that kid’s guts.

Dwight rounded them around a corner, choosing the first open door and shoving Julian in without announcement. Dwight swore. He ducked in quickly, locking the door behind them. Julian heard the rush of feet go past, someone saying something about ‘catching them’. It was a bit ominous. Also that autograph totally wasn’t for her daughter, Julian thought bitterly.

The footsteps got quieter until the two of them couldn’t hear anything at all. They must have thought they had kept going rather than hiding. It was lucky for them; although Dwight was whispering something into the keyhole in what sounded suspiciously like Latin, so maybe Julian wasn’t better off locked in here.

“Where are we? It feels cramped.” Julian ran his hand along the wall until he found a light switch.

The room lit up. It seemed to be a storeroom, full of paper, ink, and printer toner. There was a photocopier in the corner which looked like it had seen better days, it had a large crack down the plastic casing. The place wasn’t dusty, but it obviously wasn’t a place people typically congregated. Julian sent off a text to the twins that he was hiding out in office supply hell, but was generally okay.

“We’re probably going to be here a while, they’re going to be scouring the building for you after this.”

Julian tucked his phone away. “Well I can think of a couple things to do to pass the time.”

Dwight sighed, leaning against the door. This was not how his day was supposed to go. “Do you really think now is the time?”

“What did you expect?” Julian said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. The room was small, but there was no reason other than the obvious as to why they were standing this close.

“We’re in the middle of my workplace- a public place with people who know who you are roaming the halls trying to snap a picture.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you yesterday in my trailer. And you locked the door.” Julian impishly tugged down on Dwight’s tie.

He was glad the light was on; he got to see the red spread over Dwight’s cheeks. He seemed irritated, but with something else that made Julian lick his lips.  

“Okay you really need to just cut it out.”

“Cut what out?” Julian’s hands went to Dwight’s belt. He couldn’t even mess with the buckle before he felt himself knocked up against the wall.

“That. Everything. Either you’re scared of getting caught or you’re a hellraiser. Make up your mind.” Dwight said; close enough to Julian’s ear that he felt goosebumps up his neck.

“And what if I’m just messing with you?” Julian dared.  He had to look up slightly meet his eyes; he was fond of that.

Annoyance twisted Dwight’s mouth. “You’re the one who would suffer if we were caught; you have everything riding on a reputation.  If someone found me in a closet with another guy my family would just wonder why I didn’t tell them sooner.”

That was true to an extent, but as an actor he was able to hide things better than most. He had once gotten off behind a couch while a maid was cleaning the room. He was exceedingly good at hiding it when it mattered. “What about Windsor?”

“They’d be more surprised that I was fucking anyone at all- regardless of gender.”

Dwight’s hands were firm, holding him hard.  Julian wondered how strong Dwight could be if pushed. Then again, he didn’t fall over when he crashed into him earlier- so the answer was probably ‘very’. _Nice._

“Really? I think you’re pretty scared of the fallout too.” Julian bluffed, feeling a thrum of pleasure as Dwight’s eyes darkened.

“You’re trying to wind me up.”

“Is it working?” Julian’s smirk was cut off by Dwight pushing him back; hand on his shoulder and mouth on his.

He didn’t have to comment on it, but Julian was so pleased.  He hated when guys danced about the issue, couldn’t even get up the courage to get it up.  Not that he was jumping into bed with people so openly, but it was a nice change.  Considering Dwight had about three inches of height, and two down below on Sebastian he was practically purring.

There was a knee between his, keeping him pinned to the wall. Julian knew the door was locked. There was probably no one coming down the hallway for a while. He groaned. There was no space between them as they kissed.

Julian had kissed a lot of people in his life: fake and real, concealed and in front of cameras, girls and boys.  He’d made a rating scale a while back- some were fireworks, some candleflame; three was a pathetic electric tealight once, ew. He sometimes swore it was a dream, in another life, but he had kissed a boy after a basketball match as a supernova.  It still rattled him. And last winter, those kisses were like coals that smoldered so hot you could feel the heat from across the room. 

Kissing Dwight was like a bonfire, he decided: consuming, burning bright, but with direction. He gasped; a flash of teeth at his mouth and his personal space non-existent.

There weren’t many words between them, going on instinct. A black button up on the floor, Julian’s expensive trousers joined them. Julian wasn’t counting how many items were in the pile, only how many were left.

Julian’s throat was tight as he a slick mouth dragged down it, hesitancy gone in a wave of frustration and being tightly wound. He wanted to dig in and cry out; he’d liked the half-moon indents on his shoulders Dwight had left yesterday, holding in his sounds when Julian went down on him. The rougher it was, the louder Julian purred.

Being pushed up against the wall, held there by heat, muscle, and anticipation would have been enough to get Julian hard; but that half-growl, half-moan Dwight had made when Julian tugged at his hair was even better. Get them back in his hotel room, with soundproof walls, and he’d want to hear that played over and over all night.

Julian nipped at his ear, getting treated to a tight grip on his hip. A hand slipped under the elastic barely hanging on, warm and steady.

“Fuck you.” Julian whined into Dwight’s ear, gripping Dwight’s back earnestly.

Dwight didn’t reply, his mouth on Julian’s bare shoulder. His hand was moving too slow for Julian’s taste, but the pressure was just right. Julian didn’t know how Dwight’s breathing was steady, but gasping for air wasn’t necessary to enjoy it.

Being an aggressor in a positive way must work for him, Julian thought. Dwight wasn’t hesitant or shy in that moment where he drew a long groan out of Julian- his thumb pressing the tip with force. The coil in his abdomen got tighter, twitching at the touch.

He could feel how hard he was against him, how big. Shit he wanted to drop to his knees against, really savour what he couldn’t yesterday. Oh god, they had to find a better place to do this- to have these hands on him, driving into-

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Julian jerked back against the wall with a thud; honey in his veins and his lips parted in a curse. He wasn’t loud for long though, Dwight swallowing the sound from him easily. Rubbing against him, Julian felt when Dwight came, both of them falling back against the wall. Julian smirked, Dwight hummed his satisfaction into Julian’s neck.

“Fuck that was good.” Julian brushed his damp hair off where the waves were sticking to his forehead. He kissed Dwight one more time, lingering with a hand on his jaw; Dwight made little pleased noises before Julian broke it off.

“Nice when I know what’s going on.” Dwight shifted away to lean next to Julian on the wall.

“Just assume at all times until further notice, I want to jump you. Okay?” He slid his hand along the wall, feeling his way down.

“What?” Skepticism, typical. What did he expect?

“I’m a selfish person in pursuit of personal pleasure; you know shit, and you know shit about shit.” Julian wasn’t saying this entire situation made sense if you would have explained to him a few months ago, but hopefully by the end of the summer he’d be framing a couple bills for trashed hotel rooms.

“I’m not saying no, I just find it weird okay? You sure you’re not possessed?”

Julian rolled his eyes. “No. And just to humour you I won’t even turn that into an innuendo. Just come to my hotel room tonight- you need to fuck me, like yesterday.”

“Fuck you?” Dwight echoed.

Julian went to hide his face, “I swear if you’re a bottom.”

“I really don’t like those labels,” Dwight said sourly. “But I do prefer being in control- not like that, okay yes like that but only because I have this issue with nerves-”

“You’re rambling. Not hot. But good to know.”

“Shit, sorry.” Dwight ducked his head. Somehow he made it look endearing. What a mess. But then again Julian’s life was never simple.

He was about to go in for another kiss when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Boss? You in there?” The voice was muffled, but Julian could hear clearly enough.

Julian stopped, moving to the crack in the door. “Carlos?”

“Thank god, there are a lot of office supply rooms in this building.”

“How did you get in, I thought it was staff only?”

“Power of persuasion. We don’t charge these rates because we’re chumps.” Carmen said through the door.

“Boss, we’ve got to go before something else happens. I don’t think us hanging around without Park ID is going to fly for long.”

“Okay, just give me a minute.” Julian turned away from the door, looking for his pants.

It took a few minutes to locate his shirt (on top of the photocopier) but Julian walked out like nothing had happened. Dwight however, looked flustered and ruffled, with some of Julian’s leftover set makeup on his black shirt (but only a bit).

Carlos and Carmen didn’t say anything, but Carmen did offer Dwight a comb. Clearly Houston did covert, but not with anyone whose job or daily life involved more personal maintenance than a uniform.

“Thanks for watching our boss SB.” Carlos said.

“I really don’t get that nickname.”

“You will.” Carmen said, looking up and down the hall to try and figure their way out of here. Their escape route was foiled though when they heard Christa and her friends again.

“-and he was right down there Ma’am. We really should be watching the doors better.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Dwight stiffened, his face draining of colour at the other voice.

“It’s such a security risk. But again, we should just talk with him instead of having security remove him; he would be a good publicity booster for the parks.”

Julian glanced over as Dwight was making to jump back in with the office supplies. “Wait what is it?”

“There he is!” Christa said to the well-dressed woman at her elbow at they rounded the corner.

Agatha Houston looked to the group of four, then back to her gesturing employee, and then tucked her Bluetooth in her pocket. She hadn’t really been paying attention to the chatterbox employee; she had been going this way anyway. It was nice to know she hadn’t been wasting her time pretending to listen.

“You can go.” Agatha said, “You have done your due diligence. I think your lunch break was over anyways.” 

“Bu-”

“It’s not a bother. You can leave.”

Christa looked distraught but couldn’t say anything. She stared longingly one last time at Julian before leaving. He frowned; concerned to say the least if she would try and sneak a hug or something.

“Sweetie you can’t just bring your friends into the employee areas.” Agatha said, coming down the hallway with an authoritarian click to her heels. She looked Julian over, “Agatha Houston, Board of Directors and Customer Relations, you must be Julian Larson; I’ve seen you on television, thought I honestly can’t say I’ve seen any of your work. It’s a bit of a surprise to see you here, I thought Stuart boys were supposed to hate Windsors.”

Julian shook her offered hand. He liked her directness. “Pleased to meet you Mrs. Houston. How you know about the house rivalry?”

“My brother was Windsor prefect about twenty, twenty-five years ago. He helped start that house rivalry.” Agatha explained; to Dwight’s mortification off to the side.

Well that was a bit of news to Julian. Legacy kid with a rebel complex, weirdly that worked for Julian.

“Mom, seriously.”

“Has he tried to purify you yet?”

“Mom! Really?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Julian watched Dwight choke a little on that remark.

Agatha Houston smiled sympathetically. “I heard about what happened this spring. We sent flowers but you must have gotten so many. It’s a tragedy.”

Dwight looked like he wanted to escape into the floor, or the walls, or the ceiling. “Mom, he was just running from fans, I helped out.”

“Oh is that was the mob outside was about? I thought one of the part-timers had given up and overturned a cart of free ice cream.” Agatha pulled out her cell and moved around a couple things. “Then I don’t need a spare order, excellent.” The phone case snapped shut.

“We were just going actually…” Carmen cut in.

“Of course.” Agatha said. “I’m terribly sorry my son had to hide you back here, but if it worked well I can’t deny his methods. We can hardly have our celebrity guests being mobbed, followed, or stalked. We take that very seriously. I’ll have an all-access pass made up for you, I can’t believe they didn’t give you them already but it might help in the future.”

“Thank you very much.” Julian said as the picture of decorum. “But you’re still running a very good operation; you can’t control how people will react.”

“I can try.” She said, handwaving it.

Agatha opened her phone case again, making a note of the pass, confirmed Julian’s trailer number and urged him to have a good night. She kissed her son on the cheek and turned swiftly to attend to something that her phone had just rung about.

“Kill me, kill me now.” Dwight said, brushing away the flesh tone marks on his shirt weakly.

“She’s amazing.” Julian said approvingly, still looking to the corner she disappeared around.

“I’m getting you out of here before anything else goes wrong.”

“You do that _sweetie._ ”

“Forget it, I’m killing you.”

“Remind me when I actually care.”

“ _Coming o-o-off.”_ Carmen hummed only loud enough for the four of them to hear.

“Okay you’re all dead.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two teasers for this were meant to mess with perceptions for this chapter- hence why I dedicate this work eternally to Joey's trust issues.  
> Notes:  
> -"Lavender Marriage" was the term to describe when a queer man/woman got platonically married to be one another's 'beards' and continue with same-sex dalliances.  
> -There are deliberate parallels to Jessica and Dwight if it wasn't obvious already: Native Floridians with zero romantic game (traditionally), they drive like maniacs, both had a turning point with an SD Cast member at the pool incident, and both are weirdly richer than their wardrobes suggest.  
> -I ship Jessica's green Bug and Dwight's Impala, they are beautiful lesbians  
> -Agatha Houston is a queen and I love her dearly  
> -I consulted about 50 different fics for 'research'- I settled on keeping it a handjob so Sadie wouldn't kill Dwight with safe sex pamphlets  
> -"Hi Mrs. Houston, your son just got me off next to a broken printer. Nice to meet you."   
> -Chapter name credit to Fall Out Boy


	16. No Crime in Being Kind

_Julian cringed, pulling his knees up to his chest. That didn’t happen, it simply didn’t. The bathrobe he’d grabbed wasn’t really enough to hide it. He wrinkled his nose, wanting to just hide under the covers and pretend it was a dream._

_“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dwight said awkwardly, his clothes back on. He hovered near the door, trying to see if Julian would even spare him a single look._

_“Yeah. Tomorrow.” Julian hugged his knees tighter._

_Pausing, Dwight looked back and shook his head. His hands flitted back between his pocket and the door handle, but he ended up turning the knob anyways._

_“Goodnight.”_

_“Night.” Julian said simply. When he heard the click he fell backwards onto the bedspread and let out a long curse. Fuck. Why did that happen? He wished he could recapture that warm, contended purring he’d almost been able to surrender to. But no, now he just needed a shower and he fucking hated it._

_\---_

“Are you hung over?”

Julian pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose; shifting his sunglasses up. It wasn’t a headache. He wished it was, then he could just take an aspirin and forget. This wasn’t so forgiving.

“Just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Isabelle handed him the coffee anyways, her hand over his comfortingly. “Drink it, you’ll feel better.”

If it was anyone else he probably would have just sat in silence, glaring some more. Instead he curled up tighter in his chair, sitting half on his hip uncomfortably. She asked. She moved her own canvas chair closer to his.

“Distract me.” He declared.

“With what?”

The set was packed that morning. Some producers had come to visit the set with all the fanfare that involved. They were filming a behind the scenes video for SD-Fans Online. They were also short staffed after an incident with rotten egg salad at a crew party last night; so it was a bit of a disaster. Julian wasn’t looking forward to today, especially after last night. It had started so well, and ended so badly.

He needed a distraction. Looking at the ceiling was boring and he could only stand chaos for so long. “What did you and ‘Jack’ do?”

“Jack?” She paused, “Oh! Yeah, _Jack._ Well, we went and sh- uh he showed me the orange groves h-his family owns. And then we went inside, and it’s a big house so...”

She was blushing. Julian smiled just enough you could tell it was genuine. “For once Isabelle Montero is coy, what a miracle.”

“Well I try not to kiss and tell for just anyone.”

“Anyone?”

“Anyone.” They burst out laughing, the gossip a sharp contrast to the mess around them.

Alicia and Patrick appeared out of nowhere; costumes already on and hair done. Alicia jumped into the conversation, “I heard laughing. Who’s sassing who?”

“No one, just talking about life.” Isabelle said.

“So it doesn’t have anything to do with where you and Julian disappeared to last night?” She asked; leaning on Julian’s chair.

“You went off together? Ooo, first a late night date and now you’re corrupting little Larson? Isabelle, I’m impressed.” Patrick said.

Julian rolled his eyes; yes, little Larson, because Patrick was _so_ much older and mature. Either way, the timelines didn’t really match up for Julian to be Isabelle’s secret fling, so he didn’t know why they were jumping to conclusions. He’d never been known as a gossipy person so maybe that was why everyone was assuming things. It was safer than denials to just go along with it.

Julian shrugged. Isabelle caught his eyes and said something vague that Patrick just whistled at.

“Izzy you’re terrible, I love it. Take care of the kid, he’s in your hands now.” Patrick winked before he and Alicia were called to shoot.

“You’re not that much older than me.” Julian grumbled, Isabelle the only one in earshot. “How long until someone mentions it to the press?”

“I give it a week until the first mention of an ‘inside source’ close to Izzian leaks it.”

“Izzian?” Julian acted scandalized. “It’s Julabelle. You know the person with a vowel always goes second.”

“Yeah but I’m older.”

“Cradle robber.”

“You’re eighteen!” They couldn’t stop laughing though. Julian was glad it was Isabelle he was talking to. Clark would know enough to try and get him to open up; he didn’t need that right now.

The pass Agatha Houston promised him had been delivered that morning; not that he’d really want to use it after last night. Still, it was good of her to keep her word despite never knowing him personally. The Art Hall hurt to think about, but her sympathy didn’t feel patronizing. Mrs. Houston was certainly something.

The cast was called to set. Hair and makeup done and shooting underway, Julian spotted Amanda from SD-Fans Online with her camera woman. He and Isabelle waved, earning an enthusiastic return. There was no conversation, she was about to ask the director his vision for this episode. Julian was glad at least someone was happy on set today. He saw one of the grips struggling with a two person job by himself. It was one of those days.

The shoot passed in a blur of light conversation, silted direction, and moderately passable acting. Lunch was brought to them. They didn’t get the option to do anything else than shovel the salads and get back to work. There was a certain level of apathy everyone was feeling; and then there was Julian’s exhaustion which was unique to him.

He’d worked for years under burning set lights and filtered air on set, subsisting off the catering table and naps in his canvas chair. Since the Art Hall he needed more naps and breaks. This director clearly hadn’t gotten the memo a ten hour day without an hour break for lunch and a nap wasn’t going to result in a top-notch Julian Larson.

“You okay?” Marcie asked. She and Julian were finishing up, only Patrick, Alicia, and Isabelle were left to film a scene. She was taking off her makeup, offering a wipe over to Julian.

He sighed, taking it from her. Against the prop couch, he was almost asleep already. The only thing stopping him from collapsing is that the crew needed to mess this couch up for shoot tomorrow. “Yeah, just need a cat nap.”

“I thought the producers wanted you to lead the new partners in a studio tour?” She asked, looking funny with only half a face of foundation.

“Well then I hope they can listen to sleep deprived ramblings.” Julian wiped away his own powder, which woke him up a bit with the cool cucumber scent. He didn’t know why the director volunteered him for that, he wasn’t going to do it without falling over.

“I’d do it but I promised Amanda I’d give her an exclusive for the next episode.” Marcie said sympathetically. She stopped, “Hey Clark! Where are you going?”

Clark was checking his phone and power walking towards the door. “What, oh I’m picking my brother up from the airport.”

“Oh yeah you said he was visiting.” Marcie took the dirty wipe from Julian and nudged him. “Didn’t Julian promise you he’d come along?”

Clark looked at his exhausted friend to the producers who were bee-lining towards him from across the studio. He nodded in understanding.

“I’m so glad you reminded me Marcie. Thanks. Come on Julian, we have to go.” Clark said loudly enough for the producers to hear. They opened their mouths to protest, but they were too far away when Clark whisked his friend outside.

The spacious SUV gave Clark enough legroom to actually sit in the back with Julian. There was nothing worse than trying to make small talk with a hired driver; they should be paying attention to the road anyways. They could have asked Carlos, or Clark’s part time bodyguard to drive them; but they were following from a safe distance in another vehicle because there was only so much room for Clark and Julian, let alone Reed and all his luggage.

Julian stretched out on the backseat, barely buckled in before he closed his eyes against the humming window. Clark looked worried, but Julian knew it wasn’t about the nap. Julian always napped, it was his thing. No, Julian knew that Clark suspected something had happened and wanted to say something. Thank god Clark was such a saint. He wouldn’t ask unless he felt he had to; and Julian naturally would lie, use sarcasm, and deflect until it was water under the bridge.

A couple side roads whizzed by as they drove towards the airport; local signs with messages leading to nowhere, alligator crossings, the occasional rainstorm they simply drove through until they reached the other side. Nothing seemed real here.

Maybe that’s what happened last night; all the bad things were a hallucination, and all the good things were a fantasy. He knew that wasn’t true. It really was a shame though. The night had been going so well before he fucked up. He couldn’t help that it was in his mind when he slipped off to sleep.

\---

_“Did you really have to sneak me up the service entrance?” Dwight complained, trying to keep his head down as they slipped by possibly occupied rooms._

_“Less cameras.”_

_“And yet we’re still at your heavily secure hotel room.”_

_“Hey Dwight.” Julian said, unlocking his door._

_“What?”_

_He pulled Dwight into the room. “Shut up.”_

_Julian shut the door behind them. They’d acted normally until now; as normal as life was when you were a celebrity. The hotel staff had noticed the minor media presence outside which had been drawn when someone mentioned Julian was spending time with Clark this evening. Technically there weren’t enough that he had been forced to use the service entrance, but his guest…_

_Neither knew who moved first, grabbing for the other in a flurry of motion and impatience. It was the waiting, a sense of anticipation that had only grown. Their mouths on the other for just moments, sounds caught between them as they paused to shed clothing like leaves; one by one then seemingly all at once._

_Julian liked Dwight’s hands on his waist; they pressed into the bottom of his ribs, the tips of his fingers pushing in at his spine and tugging him forward. His tongue flicked into Dwight’s mouth, more out of need than desire to tease. He wanted those hands to push him down against the mattress, needed the same breathlessness of kissing him to come from having that mouth at the back of his neck._

_“Fuck, you’re still too covered.” Julian said against Dwight’s lips, reaching down to tug at the waistband of Dwight’s boxers. They had clung just enough that they couldn’t just fall off when pushed._

_“Impatience really isn’t-” Dwight started and was stopped in the same breath. Julian kissed it out of him, hands on his shoulders and staring pointedly._

_“Don’t get zen with me Knight.”_

_Dwight frowned, “Don’t call me Knight while we’re going this. Now I’m just going to be thinking of the twins now.”_

_“You say that like it’s a bad thing,_ Sir _.” Julian teased. Usually it was just fun to say; but here and now, calling him it just made Julian want him more. Dwight was rolling his eyes, like it bugged him at this point the tautness in his boxers was indicating he didn’t care what Julian called him._

_Dwight replied by bending down to get his boxers around and off his ankles. Julian made quick work of his own, but Dwight was faster._

_Julian bit his lip, not wanting to say it aloud but he genuinely liked with what he saw. He wouldn’t be left wanting, no, not at all. He’d gone down on the guy, but he hadn’t gotten to appreciate it. Hell, he hardly got to now because he was dying right now. He didn’t know how some people could be satisfied with less; there’d been a reason he gravitated towards taller guys, they were better for this statistically._

_They had only moved a step or two from the door, and Dwight had been about to move a little further into the room when he noticed Julian’s stare._

_“What?” Dwight asked worried._

_Julian looked at him, sardonic. He was good at this, but also pretty shit. “You’ve got a great dick, that’s what. Stop fishing for compliments.”_

_“Uh… you too?” Dwight flushed, the blush colouring touches of skin Julian didn’t know could be so pale._

_“Do us both a favour and stop.”_

_Julian might have second guessed choosing Houston to take to bed had the guy not actually taken his advice and shut up. And oh did he shut up._

_A pale hand ran down to a tanned hip; hard against him, Dwight tugged him up against him. The kiss started off hasty, but slowed. Dwight’s other hand tangled into the nape of Julian’s hair, pulling him into a rocking of their hips, drawing out a moan of want._

_The line of Julian’s neck tensed, Dwight kicking down it leaving Julian free to make as much noise as he wanted. The best part of upscale hotels were the soundproofing. He clutched at Dwight harder, not hiding the pleased sounds as Dwight made his way to his collarbone._

_There was a graze of teeth along Julian’s shoulder. It hurt, but in the moment it only felt intense. He didn’t even get to groan before Dwight had stopped, looking up to apologize. Julian kissed him harshly, before he could even speak._

_“I like that remember? Stop worrying.”_

_“Really, you’re into it?”_

_“I’m into you.” He bit at Dwight’s lower lip teasingly. “Now bed.”_

_He’d been looking forward to this, maybe not just for starvation of touch but because there was something honest about it. Having someone with no pretentions touch you, hold you. He liked not having to pretend- but then again, outside of this room they’d be pretending they had never been here at all._

_The thought didn’t sour the moment for long. Julian didn’t feel Dwight fight him when they fell sideways onto the sheets. In fact it was more like he was fighting Dwight: that taller form bent over him, hands on his sides with his nails raking his hips. Julian tried to lean up, only to get pushed back down with a kiss._

_He felt Dwight’s hand on him, stroking him painfully slow. He arched up into the touch, bracing his hands on Dwight’s shoulders. He didn’t want it like this, not like the supply closet when they had all this room._

_“I said I wanted you in me, fuck.”_

_Dwight didn’t stop but flushed nonetheless. “I know, you’ve got stuff right?”_

_“Yeah, under the paper in the drawer.” Julian was breathless, “And I don’t need stretching so don’t even fucking waste time.”_

_The red tinge to Dwight’s skin ran all the way down his pale form. Julian didn’t know how he knew, but it wasn’t embarrassment. Dwight bit his lip and Julian smirked, smug at the reaction. He didn’t know when he had started noticing things like this, but if it meant those dark eyes would keep watching him, he wouldn’t mind noticing more._

_It was quick work to get a condom on. Julian rolled onto his front in anticipation. Fuck, he’d been waiting all day for this. He couldn’t help the sounds he made when Dwight slid into him, nor would he want to. It was too god, feeling full like this. Fuck he-_

\---

“Julian.” A hand was on his shoulder.

He looked up bleary eyed, “Clark?”

“We’re at the airport. Reed called and said he’d over packed, so you can’t stay in the car and sleep. Sorry.” He looked pretty apologetic, offering his hand to pull Julian up and out of the vehicle.

He wished he could catch more shut eye, but he was reaching the bad part of that memory. _Thanks I guess_ , he thought about Clark. He didn’t really want to relive what happened after that.

“I’m coming, don’t worry.” Julian said, sweeping his hair back and putting his sunglasses on. It was raining again so he didn’t need them right now. There were always weird paparazzi ambushes at the airport, so he’d learnt to be prepared.

Clark had gotten them pulled up to a side entrance, away from main walkways. The covered entrance saved them from the torrential downpour that didn’t seem like it was going to let up soon. The doors were reserved for receiving first class passengers, which the son of Hilde Van Kamp certainly was.

Once inside it felt much less ‘Florida’; the halls were finished with modern panelling and bright cool lighting. Only a few other people walking about. They were mostly limo drivers in black hats holding signs for resorts, companies, and individuals. Clark’s guard followed at a safe distance while Carlos parked their small studio car. They didn’t stand out because of their conventional celebrity aura. No, it was more in that they were a decade younger than most people receiving passengers at the gate.

Julian settled into one of the chaise lounges provided while Clark sat on the other end, his cell to his ear to call for a bigger car. How much luggage could Reed have brought? It was for a week. It shouldn’t warrant another car. Then again, considering who his mother was…

He didn’t get a chance to drop off again though. Just as Clark was finished his conversation the gates opened to allow the first class passengers into the lounge. Many of them were in expensive suits, cabana clothing, or designer sunglasses. There was a rowdy family of five with Jersey accents, and their beeline to a resort sign told Julian they probably won an all-expenses Disney trip- if the mouse ears on their sign was any indicator.

Coming out later than the others was Reed, a little taller than Julian remembered. He was limping a bit, with band-aids on his nose and hands, but the smile was blinding. A Filipino flight attendant with dark curls was holding his Louis Vuitton carry-on, leading him by the elbow to make sure the way was clear for him.

“Reed! What happened?” Clark asked, quickly getting to the gate.

“He tripped on the gap for the staircase from first class. We’re terribly sorry.” The flight attendant looked worried, like Clark was going to punish him for Reed’s clumsiness. Julian noted he looked a little young for a first class attendant, but he had a slight accent so he was probably the most multi-lingual of the group.

“I have at least three doctors on speed-dial. I’ve had worse. It was just a fall.” Reed said, well humoured.

Clark looked down at the attendant, who flushed at the scrutiny. “Thank you for helping my step-brother.”

“It was no problem.” He said flustered. “Have a nice trip- uh I mean vacation.”

From his seat Julian had a good laugh in his head over the attendant. Most people fell in love with Clark, but to be run ragged by both of them was just amusing. He hoped the attendant was out, if not he was obvious as hell.

Clark put his hand on Reed’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere you’re not going to hurt yourself.”

“We’re in Florida, not on the moon.” Reed quipped.

Julian, still sleepy, was awake enough to chuckle. “You’re not as stuck up as I thought you’d be.”

Clark frowned, but Reed just shrugged it off. He’d heard enough about Julian’s attitude from the other Windsors who had more unfortunate encounters with the Cheshire Cat of Stuart. “I’m sure it’s a compliment.”

“Surprisingly yes it is.” Julian said.

The three of them walked out the private entrance to where their cars were waiting. Julian didn’t have Clark to lean on this time, as he was animatedly discussing what Reed had been doing since they last saw one another. Julian wouldn’t begrudge his friend his family time, but on the other hand he was tired. To have the chatter going at such a fast pace was irritating. He thought Van Kamp was more timid than this- maybe this was the Anderson effect, date one of them and become an insufferable jackass.

He pinched his nose, he didn’t mean that. And he was just thinking it anyways thank god. Clark would kill him if he insulted his step brother that way. Instead of worrying about it anymore he let Carlos direct him to the side of the hired car, snoozing as soon as he hit the leather interior.

Dreamlessly was how he slept. Thank goodness. He was shaken awake by Reed of all people, who was looking down at him concerned.

“Are you okay?” Reed asked.

“Late night.” Julian explained.

“You’re really sleepy though. It doesn’t seem normal.”

“Why do you think the twins called me Cheshire? Cat naps little Dormouse, get with the program.” He sat up, looking through the window. They had arrived at an on-resort hotel. He almost laughed when he noticed it was the same hotel with the pool that the cast had snuck into. The staff was loading boxes into the dumbwaiter with more than a little difficulty. Reed had brought enough suitcases and wardrobe boxes to outfit an entire runway show.

“Alright then. Well if you’d like to come up, Clark’s already trying to get me settled.”

Julian didn’t know why Reed was holding conversation with him. Last time he saw him he jumped at small movements and scurried from anyone who seemed more intimidating. He truly was a dormouse. Now? He seemed more assured of himself, stronger. It was weird, but if it meant Van Kamp had a backbone he wasn’t opposed.

“Sure, sure whatever.” Julian slid his sunglasses on and stepped out into the damp resort grounds. The rain had let up just enough they didn’t need umbrellas. It still wasn’t comfortable until they got inside.

“How have you been? No one from school really knows what happened after they moved you back to LA.” Reed said, brushing waterlogged curls out of his face. He stumbled over the edge of the carpet but fell onto a couch.

Julian stared. How did this guy come out with less injuries than him from Hell Night? “Read a magazine, I’m fine.”

“Clark said you’ve been avoiding anything Dalton, he’s worried about you.”

Oh okay, now he got it: brotherly concern. Not any kind of interest in Julian for his own curiosity; he could deal with that. He didn’t know about brothers personally but it was better than a Windsor trying to pry into his life- especially given his recent company.

“I’m fine.”

Julian nodded to the elevator attendant. The old man complied with the floor request, pressing the number. The doors closed and they felt themselves rise.

Julian continued, “Clark’s concern is sweet but I can take care of myself.”

“Like you took care of yourself when Adam-”

Julian couldn’t slap his hand over Reed’s mouth fast enough. “Van Kamp, I like the fact you’ve finally acquired a set of balls. Maybe you actually give a shit, but if you want to see tomorrow you will shut the fuck up.”

That was what he had forgotten about Reed and the rest of the conspirators, they all knew about him. Fucking outed at knifepoint with Logan staring at him like he was a train wreck. Maybe Reed thought he was better, healed, over it- he wasn’t. Maybe all Windsors just had a terrible habit of putting their foot in their mouths. But they had to have enough common sense to at least try to be vague in public.

“But the papers know about-“

Julian slapped his hand back down, “Shut. Up.”

Now he was officially pissed off. The whole lot of them had probably been gossiping about it, laughing about how fucking gay for Logan he was. Like they could even string the word bi together between their own self-absorbed imaginings.

He had to be civil in front of Clark. The doors opened and Julian stalked towards the room with the open door.

Clark smiled, “Hey, Reed woke you up.”

“Yeah.” Julian let Clark wrap him in a hug, his friend’s chin high enough to rest on the top of his head. He liked Clark’s hugs and was loathed to stop when Reed walked in.

“Thanks for picking me up. You didn’t have to.” Reed said, looking up a comical distance to his step brother

Clark said something about the three of them grabbing dinner. It had stopped raining, but Julian just wanted to get to bed. Reed ruined Clark’s plans though by looking out the window.

“Wow! That rollacoaster is huge! I can’t believe we’re right next to Universal.”

“Close enough you could hop the fence.” Julian said under his breath. Clark hushed him.

“Reed, you do know our entire show is filmed in the Universal Studios for this season?” Clark asked.

Reed nodded. “But it’s different when you’re there. It’s so much louder than New York.”

“How?” Julian asked, recalling his numerous trips to the Big Apple. It was anything but quiet.

“There’s more shrieking.” Reed said, mesmerized. “It’s a little late for rides, but we could just walk around. It looks amazing.”

“We could show you around, we’ve gotten to know it pretty well over the past month,” Clark said looking to Julian for confirmation.

Like hell would he be stepping foot in the Parks until he was sure Houston couldn’t even remember his name. That would _totally_ end well for him.

“I don’t want to interfere. You’ve come all this way. You know, you should spend time with your step-brother.” Julian said, trying to be nice. This was his cue to leave.

“Don’t you have that all-access pass though? You could give Reed your old one so we don’t even have to wait in line. You know my guard would have a fit if he had to watch out for us alone in a crowd.”

Julian didn’t know what Clark’s angle was. He probably thought he was being nice, giving him an excuse to go into the Parks, but Julian wasn’t biting. That was until Van Kamp’s eyes lit up, looking like a precious little puppy under a Christmas tree.

“You could do that?” Reed asked. “That would be so cool.”

“Yeah well, I’m not.” Julian looked at the two of them like they were nuts.

Clark looked at him the same way. “Julian? What’s wrong?”

He was so confused right now. Clark wasn’t making any sense. And looking at Reed now actually made him feel bad; it was like he’d slapped Reed for no reason, and Julian didn’t do that sort of shit unless it was purposeful.

“Fine!” Julian relented. “But Carlos isn’t going to like having to follow us through a theme park any more than your bodyguard.”

“Carlos is a good guy, he can handle it.” Clark said patting Julian on the shoulder.

As Clark checked over the bags in the room, Julian thought about slipping out now. But he knew whatever Clark was doing it was just for the benefit of his brother, which was nice honestly. He didn’t know how Clark managed to remain so kind in the face of Hollywood or music industry bullshit. The guy was checking to make sure Reed had a first aid kit in his messenger bag before they left! Okay maybe that was more a Van Kamp thing than just being over protective, but it was weird. A small part of him was grateful for it, grateful that he had a friend who actually gave a damn.

As they walked the short way to the side entrance to the Parks from the hotel, Julian wished he could just slip away. Carlos and Clark’s guard were a couple steps behind them. He wished he could talk to Carlos but when he was in front of other guards, Carlos was more conscientious than normal. There was something about professionalism that Julian didn’t fully understand.

They entered the parks with more ease than most; their passes doing wonders. Reed almost flipped over the turnstile and Clark had to catch him.

Their walking was like any visitor to the theme park- meandering and anonymous. However Julian already noticing curious eyes wandering over towards them, despite his ruffled appearance and dark sunglasses. If he got stampeded by himself, he could only imagine what it would be like with Clark Sawyer, boyband member and actor. No one probably knew Hilde Van Kamp’s son by sight, but they would know on the internet later. He wished he had taken a longer nap.

Reed stumbled again, earning a glare from a passing tourist. He then passed his phone over to Clark to take photos, as it was out of his motor skill range to walk and snap pictures at the same time.

“Who are you sending these to?” Clark asked as he did what he was asked.

“Shane. He’s cooped up with his family for most of the summer so we aren’t getting to spend a lot of time together.” Reed explained. He sounded resigned to the fact his mother was not a fan of distractions, which curly-haired fashion disasters certainly were.

“He’s your boyfriend right?” Clark asked. Julian pretended he didn’t see that subtle look towards him.

“Yeah.” Reed blushed, sticking his hands in his pockets bashfully. “He wants to do something special for our five month anniversary, but I have a funny feeling he wants to take me dancing. It’ll be a disaster!”

Julian saw a man with a professional grade camera speaking to a colleague a block down. He flashed a look towards the bodyguards. Carlos nodded, he had seen them too.

“Oh come on, you do show choir, surely it’s not so different.” Clark said kindly.

“You’ve never seen what happens when they’ve tried more complicated choreography than a side step. You’re lucky you’re in a band, you don’t have to worry about knocking more than one person over at a time.” Reed was good humoured about it, laughing more at his misfortune than himself.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I almost knocked Sinny off the stage though?”

“No way!”

“It was early on, and it was a small stage after all.”

“Clark?” Julian looked over to see the photographer had noticed them. The snap of the camera was unmistakeably distinct. He did thank whatever higher powers existed that they had seen fit to skulk and snap candids, it would avoid a riot.

They had to side step a couple times to avoid the Universal golf carts that were whizzing by. Julian hoped it would mean they’d lose the photographers, but now the golf carts had him on edge as well. He just wanted to blend in- which made him realize he really was having an off day.

Clark was deep in conversation with Reed, which made Julian wonder why he’d even been dragged along. It was later in the day, families leaving the park, so why couldn’t he leave as well?

“Oh, could you get a picture of me in front of the rollarcoaster for Shane?” Reed asked, Clark obliging. He brushed his curls out of his eyes as he smiled. More than just one camera was snapped.

The professional photographers had not been subtle enough. They were attracting looks from some other people in the park. Luckily a large amount of the people left in the park didn’t seem to be _Something_ _Damaged’s_ core audience. Clark’s audience however? He had a little more universal appeal. So Julian chose not to warn him when a young woman in her twenties came up to them.

“Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. You don’t happen to be Clark Sawyer?”

Julian stood off to the side, letting Reed drift back close and watching with bored apathy. If they started a riot he would not be pleased, but it would serve them right.

“Yes. And you are?” Clark put down Reed’s smartphone, smiling down at the fan. Julian frowned, why was he so damn nice?

“I’m Emily. I’m just here with family, but wow I knew you were in Florida because you’ve been saying so on Twitter, but I never expected- I’m just a big fan. I love your music, it’s really important to me.” She had that starstruck twinkle in her eyes, an earnest smile on her face.

“I’m glad you like it. We put a lot of work into it. Did you want a photo?”

She nodded emphatically, giving Clark her phone to snap the photo. Julian wondered how he got so good with fans without years of PR training. Possibly he was just genuinely nice- actually, he was. Damn him for being so good.

Reed was looking about, not paying attention to his step brother. Julian couldn’t blame him, why would you find some random person more intriguing than a theme park- whose main purpose was to entertain. What he did take issue with was Reed perking up when one of the golf carts was coming up behind a crowd of people.

Carlos was already trying to intercept the photographers who were getting closer by the minute. Clark was occupied with one of the most polite fans Julian had ever seen. And Reed? Reed just yelled.

“Kill me now.” Julian muttered to himself, hiding his face in his hand.

“Dwight! Hey Dwight!” Reed said, waving to the Universal Golf Cart.

It was a little ways off, but yes, it was Dwight in the passenger’s seat. Julian didn’t recognize the person driving, but that was probably good as they didn’t recognize him either. He had enough of Universal employees being rude to last a lifetime.

“Reed?” Dwight said something to the driver and then swung out of the moving vehicle, landing a couple steps away. Reed rushed forward to greet his friend, but tripped and had to be caught by Dwight.

“Dwight! I thought you were kidding when you said you were from Florida. It doesn’t seem like you at all.” Reed grinned. “It’s so good to see you!”

“I knew you were coming sometime this week, but I didn’t expect to see you here.” Dwight said, letting Reed stand up on his own.

Reed frowned. “How’d you know I was coming to Florida?”

Julian made a motion from behind Reed. They both knew it had really just been a family visit, Julian had only known through Clark, and Dwight only knew through Julian. As awkward as last night had made things, Dwight didn’t seem to want to drag Julian into Reed’s radar of questionable things.

“Uh, the twins?” Dwight shrugged.

“I never will understand how they know what they know.” Reed agreed before changing topics. “But this is so cool, is this your family stuff? Theme parks? That’s amazing. Could you sneak us in after hours to ride the rollarcoasters? The twins totally would want you to host next New Years.”

“I’m not really allowed to do that. My mom would probably get really mad.” Dwight said. “How about I just show you around?”

“Could you? Clark has been trying but he’s here for filming and- oh Clark! Look who I found!”

Clark had finished with the fan and was back at Julian’s elbow. Reed pushed Dwight forward, under the impression the two of them had no idea who the other was.

“This is my friend Dwight from Windsor. Dwight, this is my step-brother Clark. And well, you know.” Reed managed an awkward ‘here is that guy whose stalker landed you in hospital’.

Clark thankfully managed to read the situation, offering his hand out like he’d never seen Dwight in his life. “Good to meet you Dwight. Any friend of Reed’s is a friend of mine.”

“Likewise.” Dwight said. He glanced over at Julian again, who had pushed his mirrored sunglasses as far up as they could go. His frown was still evident though.

“Oh you have got to show me the Wizarding World, I bet it’s even better than in photos.” Reed said, letting Dwight lead the way through the parks. Thankfully Reed and Clark did most of the talking, letting Dwight explain as they went. Julian was still aware of the photographers behind them, and could only hope they wouldn’t get a good shot of anyone’s face.

This is exactly what Clark had been warning him about. The more time he spent with someone, the more likely they’d get into the public eye and their time with him would be questioned. He wasn’t alone with Dwight, and the media didn’t really assume people were gay-until-proven-straight- but still. He’d been warning Isabelle about Jessica and now here he was. Probably nothing would come of it, but Clark’s silent ‘I told you so’s would haunt him if something did.

The sunset was coming on fast, Clark suggesting again that Reed and him grab dinner. Julian, who had been mostly unwilling to this entire encounter was finally released from his weird entourage position. Clark and Reed said goodbye, Reed with special thanks to Dwight for the tour, and they parted ways- or tried to.

“Can I talk with you for a minute?” Dwight asked.

There was a natural alcove in the bushes behind one of the staff buildings. The photographers had laid off about a half an hour ago. Julian wasn’t worried about being spotted, but he was worried about what Dwight would say to him.

“What is it?” Julian said, not meeting Dwight’s eyes.

“Did I do something wrong? I mean, I know it didn’t go really according to plan but I don’t think you would have actually swung by the Park today if Reed hadn’t suggested it.” Dwight said, leaning on the wall next to Julian.

Julian pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard to explain. It wasn’t something he really wanted to revisit. “It’s not you, I swear.”

“So you’re embarrassed.”

“No!”

“But it’s not your fault, it’s not like you planned to s-”

“Don’t even talk about it. I have never-”

“Isn’t that another benefit to condoms though?”

“We are not having this conversation Houston.”

“Yes we are.” Dwight said, voice low. “You practically jump me at my workplace, drag me back to your hotel room, and then exile me without any explanation? Come on, we both know that’s messed up.”

“I just don’t want to think about it.”

“So you shit yourself. I always thought that was sort of one of the risks of well, gay sex.”

Dwight was being impressively blasé about this, but it might just be because he viewed demons as a more pressing personal issue. Julian didn’t want to dignify it with a response but he kind of had to, it hadn’t been Dwight’s fault and he was being kind of an asshole… yeah.

“Did it ever happen with you and Hendricks?” Julian shot back.

“Well no, but it was never as spontaneous as last night.”

“Yeah well I’m not fond of the entire experience, so you can understand why I’m not eager to do it again.”

“It was good before that though. Right?”

_Firm hands on flushed hips. That deep burn, coiling tightly like a spring ready to explode. The feeling of hot breath at the back of his neck. Holding on to the sheets under his hands for dear life as he- oh fuck._

Julian looked down, “Yeah.”

“So stop freaking out. You’re not perfect, no matter how you like to be portrayed- and pretending you are with me is kind of bullshit okay?”

Julian considered Dwight. “You’re a lot more insightful than people give you credit for.”

“Nah, I just notice things.” He smiled. “Text me later?”

Julian nodded. “Yeah.”

He didn’t know why he did, but as Dwight made to leave Julian caught him by the elbow, leaning up and kissed him. It wasn’t long, or deep, or even passionate- by his own standards it was pretty chaste. But it had a certain softness to it that left Dwight looking at him strangely.

“See you.”

Until tomorrow then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for devolving into the scatological but honestly, I had this idea in my head of Julian being the one to mess up their first time and literally this is the idea I kept returning to. It was born out of a comment my friend's fiancé said once about why he doesn't like sex- or at least this one particular kind of sex. 
> 
> Notes:  
> -If it was not obvious, that flight attendant was a certain young man with #TrustIssues  
> -Clark is a suspicious guy, he's just nice enough not to be too obvious about it.  
> -Reed will be hanging around for a couple of days, so you'll see more of him.  
> -I want to get back to more of Julian's Rock Star Indie film, so possibly next chapter there will be something about that.  
> -That fan that talks to Clark isn't anyone in particular, I just wanted a nice fan for a change. I'm still happy I got to fit the SD-Fans Online girls in again.  
> -Chapter Title credited to Marina and the Diamonds.


	17. A Haze Above My TV

“Isabelle, may I call you Izzy? Isn’t it true that you and a certain costar have become much closer lately?” 

Isabelle tossed her styled beachy waves over her shoulder. Her laughter was as poised as her. “I’m close with all my co-stars; we’re like a family on _Something Damaged.”_

“Oh of course I’m talking about those adorable posts on twitter of you and Julian Larson from last night. Moonlit dinner? That’s a little much for just friends.” 

“Clearly you don’t have many close personal friendships.” Isabelle said. 

Alicia snorted into her hand, but she was just as interested as the interviewer to know what was up with the posts. It was intriguing, if intriguing meant just more material to chat about that is. 

The interviewer had requested a joint interview with "Jizzy". Whoever thought of that name deserved to either be fired or promoted. Once a small column in US weekly was posted about Isabelle’s late morning on set, and a photographer had noticed them close when leaving the studio the other day, their publicists wanted in on it. Luckily Carmen and Carlos had stopped the photographers before the lime green car pulled up, but their managers didn’t know that- hence the interview, although for their impatience they got Alicia instead of Julian. 

"Is it awkward with people dating on set?"

“Natasha seems to make it work.” Isabelle said.  

“Don’t bother.” Alicia interrupted. “I can’t get her to spill anything on how she and J got together- she’s a locked box I tell you. Here I am thinking Julian had some weird dinner thing with Marcie and Clark, but no, apparently he’s gone and blown them off to get Izzy the Cougar- I mean really.” 

“Oh really?” The interviewer looked intrigued. 

Isabelle laughed politely, but didn’t dignify that with an answer. 

Coy photoshoots had been organized on the _Something Damaged_ budget, out of marketing apparently. A dinner, a few choice locations around Orlando , and a silver necklace with a J on it- which only made Isabelle blush when her publicist had given it to her to wear. Julian knew exactly why she fiddled it with a soft smile on her face, but let the teams of personality salesmen believe it was all for Julian.

The interview was over quickly, with a number of twitter hashtags already popping up around them. Morning news in Florida apparently travels fast when it’s a school day and the teenagers who keep your show alive are interested. Especially if it’s about if their favourite teen heartthrob is taken or not. Isabelle hadn’t received too much hate mail, but it was still better than the alternative. She didn’t want to have to deal with extremist Christians. 

She dialed Julian’s number when the SD hired car arrived to take her back to the hotel. “Hey, pick up.” 

Julian was having his own worries outside of whatever Isabelle was worrying about- namely getting enough sleep. He might have been a little bored with the dinner presentation for the press last night and ended up with an impromptu bed guest afterwards (who was of course gone before the witching hour- reasons of fate and mother’s worries). After the third attempted call finally woke Julian up, he was not pleased. 

“What?” 

“I’m done with that weird local news station. Do you think this is enough or our agents will want us to skip town and get married in the Keys?” 

“Wait what? We’re-” He wasn’t awake enough to process what she was saying. He knocked a couple pillows and his phone off the bed in his bleary struggle to get coherent enough to process Isabelle’s chatter. 

When he collected his phone again Isabelle was laughing. “You’re so gullible.” 

“No I’m not. I’m just really tired.” He grumbled. If he was up now he might as well get ready for the day. The closet in his hotel room had just been restocked by his agent.  He didn’t need to be one hundred percent awake as he looked through the latest selection she’d brought up. 

“Of course you were.” Isabelle said blithely. “I’ve been up since five and don’t get to see my favourite J, and here you are lounging about without any responsibilities.” 

“Favourite J, right.” He knew that wasn’t him right now, but anyone listening in wouldn’t. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were upset I called.”

“Oh no really? It’s just some stupidly early time of the morning but no, I’m not annoyed at all.” He found white v-neck and shrugged it on, shifting the phone as he spoke. 

“It’s like, eight am.”

“I don’t have to be at the sound studio until lunch!” 

She shrugged, although he didn’t see it. “Not my problem. I was calling to say we have another dinner tonight, dress nicely. I want to leave before sunset this time. Can you handle that?” 

Julian had found a pair of jeans and a polished pair of sunglasses, anything more and the sound people he was meeting for lunch would think he was some stuck up celebrity producer. Of course he was, but he wanted to keep an air of mystery until having to actually veto decisions. 

“Absolutely. Now can I go face the day with all the hatred I reserve for People magazine?” 

“Yeah. Do whatever.” She said. 

“Thank you.” There was no venom in his statement, but the bleep of the ended call was satisfying nonetheless.  

\---

Julian faked a smile as he greeted Anthony and Sheena. Tony and his assistant had been utterly insufferable about meeting in person to discuss the music for the film. He would have been fine doing another Skype interview but they insisted. If they wanted to fly out to some random Orlando sound studio and talk his ear off, they were paying for it out of their own pocket though. 

Tony Suonare was a weedy man in his forties, with a thin mustache and thick rimmed glasses which seemed truly vintage. He has calluses on his fingers from years of musicianship, and a couple external hard drives in his satchel of sound bytes. Julian liked what he produced; it’s just that the process was arduous. 

 “Mr. Larson! It’s a pleasure to see you. I know this is a little earlier than we usually have our meetings but-” 

Julian cut him off; waving away Tony’s offered hand and instead accepting Sheena’s sheaf of paperwork. It seemed to be standard proposals and legal paperwork regarding musical copyrights on the songs they planned to cover. “Yes it is. Hopefully it will be no longer than agreed; I do have a full schedule today after all.” 

“Oh yes. That’s why we flew out; we need you in person to really get everything finalized. The director says its all fine, but of course we need your ear before we start laying out the instrumentals for these songs. I think you understand the importance of the audio palate for a project like this.” 

Thank god for Sheena though, the wonder of personal assistants was magical. Julian wondered if Carmen and Carlos would take on that assignment as well if he upped their pay grade. Carlos had the organized frame of mind for it. 

“So we have the mock-ups for the three act arc based on the screenplay drafts we have gotten so far. The files for that one are in the blue folder. Covers legality will be under orange, and red is for urgent matters which will be updated as needed.” Sheena rattled off, Tony already setting up the MIDI files on the laptop he had attached to the studio keyboard. Tinkering with the settings, Tony seemed to have that handled while Sheena talked shop with Julian. 

He would have rather they emailed this all to him, but the urgent files did need a physical signature in triplicate since he was the executive producer. Everything had to be approved by him; this was his project at the end of the day. Just a few more days until Marque would officially take over though.  

A few guitars were set up alongside a bass with a few custom pedals; the black electric violin and a synth completed the arrangement. Julian had to admit he didn’t know how to play any of them. If Clark was here perhaps he could explain some of it. He could tell you what sounded better to his ear but technical details always eluded him. 

“So he’s got a real southern twang in the way he plucks a guitar right?” Tony Suonare explained, playing a riff that sounds vaguely country. “If we set him up to have a good mix of blues and country then it is going to set a good musical foundation for whoever you cast.” He picked up a sung low guitar which looked like it would fit in at a 1970s reunion.  Julian felt it prudent to let Suonare ramble; he seemed to be getting into a groove. 

He played another riff, Julian recognized it as one of the Who songs they’d agreed to put on in the background of a bar scene. “It is a classic sound from the Ibanez: super wholesome, so no one can hate him even if you end up making him personally a bit of an anti-hero. I think it will fit even better if you choose to up the distortion as the film progresses because the showmanship with shine through.” 

“It does say you found an actor who has guitar training.” Sheena said, flipping through a memo pad on her iPhone. “Tony is going to train the guy but we’re ready to overdub if need be. The style is as much a part of the music as the notes.” 

“I agree, I don’t want this film sounding like it was slapped together by a ten year old on a first generation Mac.” Julian crossed his legs, leaning back on the studio couch he had appropriated. 

“Yes. Exactly.” Sheena didn’t sound that invested, but Tony took over nonetheless. 

“And by the end of the film when he’s in his vicious cycle of narcissism and self-loathing that clean-cut style will be this huge mess.” He played the same riff from before, adding in a descending mix of arpeggios in between each line. It had a higher distortion level from the pedal so you could tell it was the same music, but it almost sounded corrupted morally. 

Julian knew there was a reason he paid this guy. 

All the same though, for every reference and motive he recognized in what Suonare was saying he missed two. He tried to steer it over to a conversation on vocals; Tony reminded him that the Supervising Producer Marque Washington and Joshua Goldenstern, their director, would have to be involved in any decisions over inflection, pitch, or tone. Throwing a patch cord at Tony might have crossed his mind. 

There had been an advantage to doing this all face to face, but Julian still needed a second opinion. As he walked out of that hectic meeting he called he knew that. 

“Hey Clark ?” Julian’s voice was etched with irritation. He needed a familiar voice. 

  
Clark had picked up on the first ring, considerate considering he had family visiting. “Are you okay? You sound tired.”    


Julian’s voice softened, “Sorry, it’s just work. That was the longest damn meeting I’ve had in the past five years. Are you with Reed?” 

“Yeah.” Talking to Clark was better than any LA therapy or high priced therapy. He had a way of calming you down in a single word. “We’re in Orlando visiting cafes. There’s a really nice Greek place on the main strip, do you want me to pick up something? Reed’s really taken with the gyros.” 

In the bustling background Julian could pick out Reed’s chipper voice asking who Clark was talking to. They must be inside the wrap shop. He was surprised Clark had even noticed his phone going off. 

“Thanks but no. I need a second opinion and honestly I think you and Reed can help, he’s a singer too right?” An idea was forming in his head by the second. “You think you can meet me at the Studios?” 

“We were heading back to the Hotel after this, I’m sure we could swing by.” Clark said. He paused, Julian could hear him explaining something to Reed; or Clark at least mentioned Julian’s name. He got back on the line. “It’s right next door. Are you going to cut through the Parks?” 

Julian sighed, he was discreet. Everytime he walked through the Parks he wasn’t going to bug Dwight; yes it was a lot of the time, but not all the time. 

  
Clark ’s attention to secrecy was great, but he only knew something was happening in the room above him because Julian told him not to drop by last night. Clark had wanted to ask him if the twitter post about him and Isabelle were legit but Julian didn’t mind clearing rumours with Clark .     


“Does it make a difference?” Julian asked. 

“What were you thinking of?” Clark didn’t want to reveal too much in front of his step-brother, Julian could tell. 

“I want to run some of the instrumentals for the film by you. You’re a musician; you actually play some of these instruments. I need someone I’m not paying to tell me it sounds alright.” Julian explained. 

“Does it have to be in person? You could always send me the files. Not that I don’t mind, but I don’t see why this warrants the studios.” 

“We’re trying to develop a guitar style and I don’t play. I need someone to play them, to sing the original music. I need to know, would a songwriter or a guitarist actually make this up?” 

Julian reached the car park, Carmen waiting with the door open. He got in the passenger’s side and hit the Bluetooth, Clark ’s voice filling the car. Carmen didn’t comment but pushed his feet down off the dashboard and forced him to buckle up. The car started. 

“But someone has made it up. You’ve got original music in the soundtrack.” Clark said, confused. 

“But he’s a multi-instrumentalist. Suonare breathes music; his brain is more musical synapses than water. It sounds too, too something; it’s just too much sometimes.” Julian explained. 

“So you’re producing a film about a rock star and trying to be heavily involved- but you aren’t a huge rock fan, you don’t play any instruments, and the most you know about touring life is my band. Why are you doing this again?” 

Julian tapped the armrest, annoyed. “It’s a commentary on fame; it’s like old fashioned rock and roll meets the new age viral age. How fame can eat you alive and leave you lifeless.” 

“Boss, it’s about a white boy with a good voice discovering everyone loving him isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s not that deep.” Carmen said, pulling them out of the car park. 

  
Clark cracked up. Julian wanted to get mad at her but it was pretty funny.    


“I’m paying your salary. Drive.” There was no malice in it though. Carmen’s smile was pretty hard to hide. Julian finished his call to Clark though: “I’ll meet you in the parking lot if you aren’t in the studios already.” 

“Okay, we’ll see you then.” 

\---

“Reed, I was just about to go home early. I’m not participating in anything that can jeopardize the safety of this place. My mom would kill me- or the pixies from the ‘coasters.” 

Julian normally would have been amused at Dwight’s annoyance; but he was only a silent guest to this conversation. Reed had his friend on speakerphone, with Clark explaining why they needed his keycard. Reed didn’t know they didn’t hate each other’s guts. Julian would like to keep it that way. Though, to be fair this was kind of his own doing. 

When he reached the Universal studios, all recording booths had been booked. When he told Clark , Julian was told they could improvise. That led to standing outside of a modern style amphitheater within the Parks. The bandstand looked like the sort of place retirees used for Polka recitals. Reed thought it was a brilliant idea. Julian wondered what he was doing here with a hobbit sized fashion plate in a printed vest, and his best friend who somehow neglected to tell him what the point of this was. 

Reed had been more than willing to elaborate. “We noticed the other day that there’s an in house band that does shows for the tourists. They have the right instruments and a sound board. It could be like with the Warblers, we just showed up-” 

Julian could tell he was trying to help but any mention of that club just made me annoyed. He appreciated that Reed was here, he respected his artistic sensibilities- but he did not want today to turn into the Greatest Hits of Dalton’s Birdbrains. 

  
Clark didn’t try to discourage Reed’s acapella passions. On the other hand he didn’t encourage that line of conversation to continue. “Reed, you mentioned you saw a back door for the stage? Right?”    


“Oh yeah,” Reed said. “We could just get a key card and walk on in. Easy! We can just go through the music backstage with no trouble at all.” 

Julian pushed up his sunglasses in the afternoon sun, skeptical of this plan. “Only problem is we don’t have a universal key card.” 

“But you have that universal pass.” Reed said confused. 

The pass Agatha Houston had given him to avoid celebrity maulings was just that-a pass. It didn’t swipe or click or anything, it just was meant to be flashed at doors to tell people to let him in. Although it only seemed to work when there was a crowd chasing him. It wouldn’t work on the backstage lock. 

“It’s not going to work. You’d have to be an employee to get us in, celebrity or not.” Julian said. “And this isn’t LA where you can just flash and smile and everyone knows you. It’s more complex than that.” 

Reed wasn’t going to be deterred. “Then isn’t it a good thing I know an employee.” 

Which was how Dwight ended up on speakerphone: begrudgingly, convinced to stop off at the bandstand before going to the parking lot. Clark said they needed in at some instruments, mentioning Julian’s film. Glad they only made brief mentions of him; Julian kept a keen ear on Reed. He didn’t want Dwight seeming overly familiar with him. It was good then that Dwight was either unaware or uncaring about Julian’s film up to now. Reed didn’t seem like the most observant of people, but you didn’t get into Dalton by being an idiot. And there was no arguing with Reed, it seemed, as Dwight hung up- agreeing half-heartedly to let them in.

The three of them rested in the shade of the trees behind the bandstand; listening to a sub-par house band play Queen with a low bar for quality. Carmen was standing a few metres away from them, on the lookout for cameras. The only paparazzi allowed near Julian this week were ones called on him and Isabelle. Since she wasn’t here, Carmen wasn’t going to let her guard down.

The band was now offering an off-key version of ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ (emphasis on the stop, in Julian’s opinion).  Clark clapped when they finished to be polite. Reed didn’t bother. Perhaps the chicklet sized painter had better input that his friend, Julian thought bemused. They were behind the stage, they wouldn’t know if the three of them were clapping or not. 

“Sawyer, your brother’s friend is here.” Carmen said, her side to them while she looked towards one of the many paths leading to the amphitheater. Julian really needed to raise her salary. 

“He is? Reed come on.” He got up, motioning for Reed to follow him. Julian trailed behind, looking anywhere but forward. 

Sometimes he was jealous of Clark . His friend could make any situation casual. He remembered once when he and Clark had walked into a cocktail party for the producers back when Julian was just a recurring guest. They were so out of place with Julian ‘borrowing’ his character’s wardrobe and Clark in a peach and orange shirt his brother had insisted was ‘in-style’. Instead of getting chased out, an executive of their studio and his wife were inviting them to a lunch at their country club the next weekend. Clark ’s charisma was an easy one, one that Julian wished he could exude sometimes. But for him it was better to be treated at arm’s length, Clark made people feel close. 

It’s probably why Reed didn’t see anything amiss when Clark was the first to greet his friend, not him. Julian just cared that he got his music vetted by the Sawyer-Van Kamp artists with minimal fuss. 

Or that’s all he cared about until he properly got a look at the wayward teenaged employee the three of them had dragged away from his end of shift.  He didn't know whether to hide his face or well...

Dark jeans, an old t-shirt with a stylized 80s zombie, and a dark jacket which looked like a million degrees. His hair was longer than Julian initially thought, as it was up in half a ponytail. The medallions around his neck Julian recognized, but the pins weighing his jacket down were just ridiculous. And somehow it worked- maybe he really was desperate. Then again, that face. 

What's really annoying is that Reed seemed to notice it too- or the disaster part anyway. Julian stepped up halfway into Reed berating Dwight on what he was wearing, never mind what it was wrapped around. 

"-seriously, this jacket is so old Dwight. It doesn't have to be colourful, I swear it could match this- wait is that a woman’s cut?" Reed was fussing with the cuff of Dwight's jacket, sympathetically picking at the multitudes of pins and badges. He pulled at the edge of the jacket, inspecting Dwight, who clearly was just confused why his friend seemed so morally offended.

"Shit, I grabbed Sadie's again by mistake." Dwight looked down, flipping the hem up. A faded marker name was on the washing tag reading "Sad-e". 

  
Clark shot a look over at Julian, wary of a reaction. Julian just made sure his sunglasses blocked all of the heavy sun and kept a placid expression. This worked to his advantage anyways. He understood Clark 's concerns but didn't share them.    


Reed's mouth dropped into an 'o'. His hands dropped from Dwight's jacket like someone was going to jump at him for touching Dwight. "Sadie?" 

"Yeah my best friend, why?"

"No reason. Just, I've never heard you mention her before." Reed said, like he'd intruded on something. He'd probably go text Anderson 's brother about it; ask if he missed something about his friend. 

"I'm sure I've mentioned her, huh." Dwight scratched under his hair elastic, not looking bothered by the extreme humidity as the sky threatened rain. He shrugged. "Well I did tell you guys I was from Florida but no one believed me."

"Thanks for coming to help us get backstage." Clark interrupted. Julian almost snorted; Clark was always so uncomfortable when he had to be even slightly rude. Granted it was for a good cause this time.  

"Oh yeah, not a problem." Dwight shot a look over to Julian. "It's for your movie right Larson? I don't get why you couldn't use the studio equipment though." 

"The booths are all booked _Houston_ _._ If there was any other way we wouldn't be dragging you along with us I swear." Julian said; hand in one pocket like he was bored. The hint of a smirk gave him away. 

Dwight clenched the keycard he'd taken from his pocket; the look he shot to Julian's mouth said it all. "Whatever. You guys are lucky Reed's my friend." 

"We really appreciate it. Thank you." Clark said, trying to figure out how to proceed. The four of them were on completely different wavelengths, Reed happily chirping in thanks, while Julian turned towards the backstage door without another word. 

The house band was butchering another classic rock song loudly in the background. They were lucky that Carmen ushered them all inside after Dwight swiped the keycard. The rain came down, clattering on the aluminum and stucco building with a dark echo. 

The backstage area was gloomy, only lit by a few overhead fluorescents. The crew probably was banking on the natural lighting from the stage until the rain set in.  It was Florida though, so the band kept playing. 

"Shit, I wanted to get out of here before it started raining." Dwight complained. 

"Looks like you're stuck with us." Julian said sarcastically. Dwight shot him a look that Julian only looked smug about. 

"I'm going to watch the door, I don't want any surprises." Carmen said, staying at the edge of the stage curtain. She had a good line of sight of most of the on and offstage areas. Julian nodded to her and followed Clark, Reed, and Dwight. 

"So where are the extra instruments?" Clark asked, looking around the area. 

"I think they're over here. It's similar anywhere you go in the park honestly, extra stuff behind the shipping containers. No one ever puts anything away." Dwight led them around a couple cases and boxes blocking the extra equipment. 

Reed chuckled. "Like you have any room to talk Dwight, if it wasn't for Todd your dorm would be a biohazard." 

"It's not my fault dove bloods stains carpets, come on."

Julian was glad Dwight had his back to him because the face he made was not a pleasant one. Animal blood? He should be glad Stuart had never gotten doused in that- just their own, in the Ar- 

Shaking his head, Julian got himself off the subject. "So this is all operational? It looks sort of beaten up." 

There was nothing actually wrong with the instruments from what Julian could see, but he didn't want to be touching them honestly. Middle aged musicians who didn't make it used them to play in a theme park- how good could they be? 

"You guys asked me to get you in here. This is what you have to work with." Dwight shrugged. 

  
Clark picked up one of the guitars and tried to strum it. "Well they're a little out of tune, but they're fine. We should be able to look at your MIDI files and figure it out Jules."    


He motioned for Julian to hand him his phone with the files on it, opening it up in Garageband. What Suonare had laid out was good, and Clark nodded along before picking the guitar up again to tune. Julian looked over to the jumbled guitar rack, with the multicoloured guitars and basses lined up like candy. 

"I wish I could play guitar," Reed sighed as he watched Clark tune. "I'm just lucky that the freshman music class would accept vocals as a credit." He decided to sit on a pile of guitar cases, so light they didn't even creak when he hopped up onto them. 

Dwight rolled his eyes, bending down to switch around some of the cables so Clark could plug into an amp. Obviously no one else in the group was going to help Clark out. Julian didn't look, or at least pretended not to. 

"It's just practice Reed. Besides, everyone in Windsor knows you're a better artist than anyone else alive so don't even worry about it." 

"But it's just so hard." Reed complained down at Dwight. 

"You can sing Reed, that's more than most people; you should hear my uncle at Christmas." Dwight knelt properly, pulling one of the smaller amps forward and fiddling with the settings. "If I didn't know it was him I'd assume the divide of universes had corrupted." 

"Your uncle?" 

"Yeah, he was at Parent's Night, I think you saw him next to my mom." 

Reed paused. "Huh, I thought that was your dad." 

"Better dad than my real dad. He got me the car remember?" 

"Oh yeah, your crazy Uncle Ford." Reed swung one foot over the other. "I mean, not crazy but-"

"I'm the crazy one remember?" Dwight said. It sounded like a joke but he wasn't smiling. Not that Reed could see that. 

Julian bit his tongue and transferred the music files over to Clark 's phone; who, done with tuning the one guitar, quickly transferred them to Reed. The ping from his phone brought Reed's attention away from Dwight and back to his step-brother. 

Julian flicked through the file to the third on the soundtrack demos. "So this is supposed to be the big break scene, and everything up till then can be messed with I guess. The director is going to mess with it because it's 'his vision', but really I'm paying for it. It has to sound real." 

"I don't think it should be too hard." Clark said looking at his phone, listening to the track through. There wasn't anything out of place in Suonare's version, but this is why Julian wanted Clark to try and get a touring musician to try it out. 

The first few notes were shaky, played against the backing track of the drums. Clark hummed the first few bars. Reed nodded along to get a feel for the music, looking over the harmony parts.  

  
Clark stopped, "You have a note for distortion here, but the guitar is going to overpower the bass. Unless that's what you want."    


Dwight was making to leave when he heard that. "Just hook up the bass, it probably sounds weird because you have an amp and a phone." 

"But I can't play guitar and bass at the same time. We're going for authenticity here." Clark said, letting the guitar neck drop down towards the floor. 

"I'm really going to have to hold your hands through this whole thing?" Dwight said, picking up the bass from the rack and plucking the lowest string. "Yeah this will work. Reed, you got the bass line on there?" 

"You play?" Reed asked. 

"You said it yourself, freshman music class." Dwight answered simply. Reed didn't have a proper response to that and moved the phone over so they could share it. 

Julian chose not to open his mouth about Dwight's singing voice, because obviously if Windsors didn't know about it there was a good reason. What really made him mad about Dwight keeping it to himself was that he was good. Clark started up again, and Dwight was able to fit seamlessly into the song. This wasn't just a good job at singing to some shitty pop-punk song in a car; he could keep up with Clark and Suonare's files. Julian bit his lip and let Clark try and have a go at the vocals. 

"So they come in right here- _bright lights hold the city down..."_ Julian tried to show Clark what Suonare had shown him. 

" _In our busted dreams._ " Clark continued along the line, tapping his foot in time to the beat from the iPhone. " _And everything you ever hoped for, is not as it seemed/we might tear it down if we make it out clean."_

Reed joined in, with the lower harmony. " _But a chance shouldn't be extreme, a chance ain't too extreme."_

Julian winced. "That sounds crappy." 

"Hey!" Reed said, pulling his phone down and looking affronted. 

"No not you, jeez. The song." Julian put a hand on his hip. "It sounds awkward. Like that line was thought up last minute- it wouldn't make me give this guy a big break, why should the audience believe it?" 

"Isn't the character an awkward guy at this point?" Reed asked. 

"No, he's cocky. Sort of arrogant but more along the lines of pretentious." Julian explained, waving Reed off. "He's not sure what he wants to do beyond his art, but he's sure music is where he's going. For him it's the best piece of music he's written thus far, and its not- not compared to some of the other stuff." 

He stopped, the three of them staring.  Julian frowned. "What?" 

  
Clark looked at him with a soft smile. "We'll make this film work for you don't worry."    


Reed nodded intensely. "Yeah. You really sound passionate about it. Maybe if we double the lyric? So it's _'shouldn't'_ twice?" 

Julian considered, "I think _'ain't'_ would work better." 

Dwight plucked at the strings of the bass, contemplative. "What about _'a chance is all I need?'_ " 

  
Clark nodded. "I like that. It makes him not sound like such an asshole, makes him seem more real cause its like he's fighting for it."    


"How'd you think of that?" Reed asked awed. 

"Just a thought." Dwight shrugged. 

Julian tried not to stare. The more he learned about Dwight, the more secrets the guy seemed to have. More than himself honestly, and he'd spent three years and longer hiding himself in plain sight. Dwight seemed to do the same thing- abet in completely different ways. 

But standing here in the dim lighting of a backstage of a shitty theme park he couldn't help but wonder what else Dwight was hiding. He knew more than one way Dwight could be nimble with those long fingers of his; but it wasn't the place or the time to contemplate it. He could only pretend to not be looking over at the dark haired boy in the shadows like he wasn't more and more fascinating with each turn. He was a perfect fucking distraction. 

"Boss! Their set is almost up. I think you have time for one more run through before you get booted out." Carmen called from the side of the curtains. 

Julian pulled his eyes away from the hands on the neck of the bass, conscious that Dwight had noticed- even if the step-brothers hadn't. "Yeah, one more time." 

Dwight shot a look over to Carmen and played a quick riff. Carmen shrieked with laughter. _"¡Bien hecho!"_

"What was that about?" Reed asked. 

"I see her around the park, I know she likes that song." Dwight said quickly before Clark launched them into one more round of Julian's project. Julian had a suspicion which song it was, but he wasn't going to say anything to lead Reed into more questions than he needed to. Seemed Dwight was already walking that fine line on his own. 

The four of them finished right as the band onstage did. Carmen ushered them out quickly, making sure to avoid anyone would might recognize them. 

The rain had cleared up and Julian noted he had a couple messages from his manager and Isabelle on his phone already. 

"Shit I've got to get this." Julian complained. 

"No problem, we have to get going anyway." Clark said, unruffled as always. 

Julian looked at Dwight, deciding to stick out his hand. "So thanks for helping out today. You didn't have to." 

Dwight took it awkwardly, still unsure how to really treat Julian like he didn't know him at all. "It wasn't a big deal. You owe me though." 

Julian was sure he'd be held to that deal. He hoped he'd enjoy it. Then again, reminded of Dwight's extracurricular hobbies he wondered. 

Reed chimed in, breaking their hands apart as he grabbed Dwight's other sleeve. "Thanks so much for helping us Dwight. I can't wait to tell Shane that you play bass, do you think when we get back to Dalton- " Reed said excitedly. 

"Can you not actually mention it to anyone? I don't want the twins thinking I can join in the house sing-alongs. I'm not really that into it." Dwight said, trying not to wince as Reed's face fell. He continued quickly, "I can try and teach you though." 

"Would you really?" 

"Yeah." He said as awkwardly as he did that first day of the summer. 

The four of them did part ways, as Julian really did have another phone call for a quick staged paparazzi meeting with Izzy outside the lots. The goodbyes were brief, not too long for how they supposedly knew one another. But he looked back, Carmen at his shoulder and humming. He could have sworn he saw Dwight smile before texting someone. 

The ping to his own phone brought him to attention. 

  
_Dwight, 6:56pm: “Really, it's all I need."_  

Julian wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He was looking forward to it though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Dwight can shred in canon so I find it 100% plausible he can play bass  
> -Julian's dedicated as hell to this film  
> -Suonare means 'to play an instrument' in Italian   
> -Chapter Title credit to Panic! at the Disco
> 
> I am extremely sorry for the long wait between chapters. I could feign writer's block or family vacation or workplace injury- all of which happened in the time away, but honestly the biggest factor was Orlando. I feel selfish even saying it, but it left me feeling scared, helpless, and empty; and I don't know if it would have gutted me so much if Summer Boy did not exist.   
> I am queer- but I'm a hyperfeminine bi girl from Canada. I am as far from Florida as you can get, but my boys and girls? The Universal Orlando studios are less than 20 minutes from Pulse; from where that act of hatred and violence took place. It wrecked me, and I don't think anyone really understood why when I posted about taking time to finish the chapter. They just responded how they always did, which is kind- but...   
> Honestly I wasn't sure if I was ever going to add anything else, I wanted to quit. It just felt cheap, like I was making fun of the victims to write about these rich young guys whose biggest problems were so superficial in comparison- though they felt that way to me. Like what do I know? How /dare/ I?   
> I chose to set the story in Florida because "anything can happen"; I thought it would give some suspension of disbelief to my story. Well, something has happened in Florida- but just because that happened doesn't mean I'm making fun of Orlando. It took me a while to really believe that.   
> I hope you forgive me for the delay.


	18. Like I've Got Nothing To Say

“Sadie! Open the garage, come on.”

The garage door didn’t budge, still closed tightly as it had been since he drove up the driveway. The rain had started up again, drenching him in that slightly warm and sticky rain only home could provide. An operatic voice over muffled guitars sounded from behind the door; probably from her crappy CD player she refused to give up.

“Your dad doesn’t like Bruce Dickinson’s run I know it’s you Sadie. This is ridiculous!” He banged his fist on the door once more before the door opened.

It shocked him so much he bashed his hand against the handle. He nursed the bruise, cursing as Sadie ducked under the rising door to speak with him. She did not look happy, her curls getting matted at rain started to hit them.

“You’re late.”

“It’s not my fault, Reed said it would only take a minute.”

Sadie was already in her mechanical gear; messy tank top she’d stolen off of one of them at some point, ratty jeans, and a tool belt which mostly consisted of putting wrenches in her belt loops. She already had oil on her face, and hair escaping her ponytail. It looked like she’d been at this for a while already. Oops.

“You said you’d come right over once you got off work, we were going to do some charmwork on my ride. What did Reed have you doing that took so long?” Sadie tried to wipe her hands off on a rag without success.

“Uh, well his brother’s friend is working on this movie,” Dwight said carefully, “and they needed in at the amphitheatre’s spare ones. Since I have employee access, well…”

“That’s the second time you’ve broken the rules for someone else but not for us. Come on Dwight, I _need_ to ride one of those coasters at night.”

“You know my mom would tell your parents so we can all collectively die at their hand.” Dwight said, trying to avoid Sadie’s logical side by getting back to his car and pulling it forward halfway into the garage out of the rain.

“Yeah but you’ve been doing it for some celebrity friends, and now Reed’s br- wait.” She looked over her bike at him. Dwight coloured behind the wheel of his impala. He tried to roll the window up but she already opened the door.

“I swear it wasn’t-”

“Oh I don’t think you bailed on me to get laid, you don’t look nearly messy enough.” She said, rolling her eyes. “But you were late because of Julian ‘effing Larson. Seriously Dwight?”

“I was just going to unlock the door, but then it started raining, and only Clark knew how to play an instrument-”

“He’s seen you play? You never let anyone see you play.” Sadie said. It wasn’t completely true. Todd and a few of the Lancasters had seen him play, and of course Sadie and his friends here in Florida. “What was it? Keyboards? Guitar?”

“Bass?” He said like a question, unsure if Sadie was going to yell at him or just hex him privately later.

“Holy damn. You’re going to have Larson hooked, line, and sinker.” Sadie looked half incredulous, half ecstatic. “He probably couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Good one you nerd.”

Dwight was unable to dodge her good natured punch to his shoulder.

“Ow.”

“Oh suck it up.” She dismissed. “You do know that Reed’s going to tell all your other school friends that you’re not musically inept.”

“Not going to make a difference. Paige tried to recruit me last year, didn’t work.”

“Damn right. If we can’t start a punk band no one gets to tie you down.” She said, making a fist like it somehow strengthened her point.

“Oh yeah, that brilliant plan of musical sensations by night, hunters at any time we have spare time. You know that cover story would never have worked.” Dwight said, getting out of his car and popping the hood.

“But it would have been fun to try. We might have to cancel a gig or two if the monster was particularly aggressive, but you had to admit it would have been cool.”

“We were never going to be as cool as the Hex Girls though. Animation trumps reality all the time you know that.”

“But come on, who didn’t want to be them as a kid? Both of us totally had a crush on Thorn before we even knew what a crush was.”

“Sure.” He said, indulging her.

He propped open the hood of his car to examine the engine. It was fine though. Honestly he had just brought his car by to tinker with it in her garage while she fixed hers. Her bike had needed a gear replacement and he had promised to help. He could see she was finished. That was what he got for being late.

“So you need more wiper fluid? The rain was crazy earlier and I think my dad left a ton around somewhere.” Sadie said from beside him.

“Yeah I guess.”

“I think I have some over here- wait is that my _Maiden_ shirt?” She asked.

Dwight looked down. Reed had commented on it earlier and now she reminded him. “Yeah, I think we accidentally switched Eddies last time I slept over.”

“Take it off, I don’t want you ruining it.” She made a grabbing motion. “Now I know why I couldn’t find that design. You’re a dirty thief. What does Larson see in you?”

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know if I ever figure it out.” Dwight tugged it off, about to throw it over to her.

Sadie waved her hands. “My hands are dirty! Put it on the bench out of the way.”

He tossed it onto the bench to Sadie’s annoyance. He didn’t know why she kicked up such a fuss, most of the shirt was black anyways. It needed a wash as it was, he’d sweat so much onto it with the humidity and the rain.

Pulling at his wayward hair he tucked it all back into its ponytail, annoyed at the haze in the air for making everything so uncomfortable. The stickiness of the summer clung to his skin, making him wish Sadie had at least offered to grab something to replace it. She’d probably say something about Victorian sensibilities and tell him to show off for Mrs. O’Grady across the road through the open garage door. To be fair they were still trying to see if she was a pedo, or just a vampire. He could swear he saw an open curtain…

Sadie handed him the jug of wiper fluid. She leant her elbows on the front edge as he flipped the cap up to fill his car. “Would you play me something if I asked?”

“Yeah.” Dwight said, not looking up. “You never actually think of anything for me to play though.”

“That’s why the band broke up.” She sighed.

“We were never even together.”

“Not my fault Lucas can’t play drums.”

“Sure.” Dwight replaced the cap, brushing against the grease trap. Sadie picked at wires to straighten them. Anyone but Sadie he would have yelled at for fiddling with his car, but she knew what she was doing.

“But you let him hear you play. You don’t do that for anyone.”

“Reed and his stepbrother were there. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“You say that, but you didn’t even tell your Dalton friends you played unless they found out.”

“I don’t want to treat it like a big deal, just a favour.” Pushing rain-damp hair out of his eyes, he got grease on his forehead. Dwight sighed. “You don’t think I’m cursed do you?”

“No. I don’t think that’s it at all. If anything it’s natural to want to share things with people you like; even if you were basically showing off for your loverboy.”

Dwight winced. “That is literally the grossest thing I have ever heard you say. And you’ve described cockroach mating habits.”

“Then what do you want me to call him?”

“I don’t know.” Dwight said, flailing his hands about. “Can we get back to you being mad at me?”

“I don’t like being mad at you.” Sadie said, wrapping her arm around Dwight’s bare waist.

He was surprised, arm going around her to hug back.

She looked down. “I just worry about you is all. You’re either overthinking or not thinking at all, and I don’t want this to blow up in either of your faces.”

Dwight closed the hood and leant back against the front of the car. “What’s going on?”

“I found something online.” Sadie admitted.

“What is it?”

He was wary. If Sadie thought it was something to worry about maybe it was. She had good instincts that usually had more grounding than his moments of paranoia. He could tell she was phrasing things to make him not worry too much, but if she was sensing something…

She crossed the room to where her laptop was. Wiping her hands off on a cloth, she brought up a couple of webpages on Safari. “You know how obsessed fans can be.”

“Speaking as someone who runs a SPN Youtube page? Yeah.”

“That’s work, I mean the other types of fans. Like the J2 girls.” Sadie said.

“Wait you mean the RPS fans?” Dwight asked, leaning against the workbench beside her.

“Yeah. Well I was doing some googling because I’ve only seen Larson in his guest spot on SPN, so I got curious.”

He gave her a look.

“What? I have to know who my best friend is getting involved with! But anyway,” she continued, bringing up a bookmark onto the screen. “The RPS for _Something Damaged_ is way more pervasive than SuperWhoLock. They have _separate_ _archives_ Dwight, I haven’t seen that since the Pre-Livejournal Harry Potter days. And guess who their favourite slash bike is?”

“Julian?”

“Yeah, what a surprise.”

She found the page she was looking for. An archive called _Something Blue: The RPF Archive for Something Damaged and Assoc. Acts._ It was fairly professional looking, with a light blue and white background with the cast of characters as the header. The sub header reminded Dwight of the early 2000s online: “ _No defamation of character implied, all of these events are made up!_ ” He had completely forgotten a time when disclaimers were still a thing. It was surreal to look at.

“Look at these analytics. Over 40K stories on the site, just hosted on this site mind you- almost all of them feature Julian Larson, and like almost all are slash fics. Most of these authors are younger than us and really believe that Larson is involved with Clark Sawyer, if not his whole band. It’s really invasive,” Sadie said going to the tags page.

“So he’s a famous person with an involved fandom? You don’t get worried when SuperWhoLock RPS shippers do their thing.” Dwight didn’t see the issue. Then again, those actors were all fairly old and didn’t seem to deal with paparazzi as much…

Sadie clicked onto _Most Recent_ fics. “This is the problem.”

There wasn’t anything of note really. More of the popular ships, a few fics about the ‘new relationship’ between Isabelle and Julian, but most of it was to be expected. That was until Sadie hovered over “Julian Larson/knightofthenight94”. She clicked through and there were five other drabbles under that tag, most by the same author but there was one other.

“They found your Youtube channel Dwight. They’re fucking shipping you.” Sadie said, gesturing at the screen.

“Let me see.” Dwight turned the screen towards him and clicked onto the main author of the fics. The icon was a gif from Something Damaged, nothing too revealing. But her first fic was linked to the other author, “ _She totally convinced me”,_ the acknowledgment read.

The other author was a girl with green hair, whose location only read “FL, USA”: _This is my first celebrity fanfic, I’m usually a Supernatural fan but **omg** I had to share this ficlet. This is totally real guise and I ship it hard. Haters don’t believe me? idontcarrrreeee! My favorite tuber and my favorite gueststar- wow! Suck it juliarkkers I got proof!_

Dwight wasn’t sure what to feel. He’d been embarrassed at the time: having that girl get his meta videos all wrong was a certain level of awkward. This? This was uncomfortable to say the least. He supposed it was only natural she would have seen a gif of Julian’s guestspot at some point and put two and two together.

He’d been honest when he told Julian he didn’t care if people knew he wasn’t straight. He wasn’t going to broadcast it, but he had nothing to lose or gain either way. What was really making him uneasy was that someone was taking his likeness and using it for their own pleasure. It didn’t even make sense to him that she was calling Julian her ‘fave’ when he had been so mean. But then again, she was being just as rude now.

Julian probably knew he had people writing about him online; who wouldn’t know in this day and age of open fandoms and creepy questions in interviews? But Dwight knew Julian didn’t want to be outed; it was one thing for fiction to be written with your likeness, but when it crossed the border into reality it didn’t seem like something he could just dismiss as fans being fans.

“The comments are full of naysayers- but there’s a few people who are supportive of it. And there’s one kid who just spammed your Season 3 recaps with stuff about Larson.” She said quietly. “Right now it’s all based on one girl’s word, but…”

“But?”

“You never said your full name online? Anything about Dalton?”

“No way, my mom would have killed me if I did something that stupid.”

“Thank god, because Hell Night was on _E!_ remember? This could go from a headcanon to a full internet conspiracy.”

“I was never in that story, it wasn’t really even about the school.”

“But it was about Larson. And if Larson gets outed because of you he won’t care about how good you are to him, his lawyers are going to go on a full assault.”

“It’s just fandom though.”

“Just fandom Dwight? Listen to yourself. You know the power of a mob possessed by rumours. You’ve seen the people driven from the internet because of how toxic fans can be.” Sadie warned. “I’ve gotten those Youtube comments flagged for spam, but if this picks up speed it’s not going to be good.”

“Half those fans probably don’t even think Larson’s not straight. It’s just a crackship to them.” His own voice betrayed his uncertainty. Truth be told after being so antagonistic with the Stuart for years it was nice to not be on the defensive for once. If he had to fight he would, but he’d rather avoid the situation altogether.

“If someone writes a _knightofthenight94_ primer I don’t want to have to say I told you so.” Sadie warned.

“And how am I supposed to fix this? They’re going to believe what they want to believe. It’s not like he’s not protecting himself, he’s got his friend Isabelle-”

“Anyone with half a brain can see those photos are staged.”

“You’re only saying that because your deductive reasoning has been honed for hunting.”

“True,” Sadie said only with a little smugness. “But I don’t think this is something to dismiss.”

“It’s only going to gain traction if people keep talking about it. And me trying to address rumours would just be weird. When would I ever naturally stumble across one of these fics? For all I know those comments were spam or something; like with any music video there’s a _Sing_ fan saying the show should do a cover. They’re annoying but no one really pays attention.”

“If you’re sure…”

Dwight nodded, closing the laptop. It was like trying to stop rain, they would do what they would do. At this point it was more Julian’s problem than his. He had to admit to himself he didn’t know much about this person he was getting so involved in; he hadn’t even known what his film was about. Normally it wouldn’t bother him, he’d be more worried about how many Indian burial grounds the film might desecrate.

But it did bother him. He’d kept secrets before, he was pretty good at it honestly. But everyone in Windsor was an open book within reason, if they wanted you to know something they’d share it. He’d usually been the one not sharing the deep dark secrets, keeping things to himself. He would protect a secret with all he had, but he’d never really had this kind of a relationship with someone- where he wasn’t sure if they had his back as well. Even when he was convinced Kurt was cursed, he didn’t think Kurt would have thrown him to those Lima bullies; or even to the guidance councillors for trying to salt him. In a lot of ways he knew a lot about Julian, but also he knew so little. There was a disconnect he wasn’t sure how to process.

It was easier when he thought he was straight in an all-boys school. It was easier when he only had platonic friends in his life. It was easier when everything fit into categories and signs and symptoms and reasons or threats; when he could figure out what a person was by googling or asking Morgan to find it in his personal library. It was easier with Todd. But here he was anyways. Not regretting, but questioning.

Sadie closed the laptop, getting up off of leaning on the workbench. She set it on the top of a tool kit after getting another monkey wrench out. “So, back to basics?”

“You still want to put Syrian ruins on the inside of the tailpipe?” Dwight asked, cheered by the thought of doing something normal.

Sadie was already at the back of her motorbike with the wrench and powdered amethyst. “You know it.”

\---

Later on Morgan had shown up, brought pizza and apologized that Lucas was once again taken for summer basketball. Camp was over, but now his teammates wanted to practice. Considering Dwight had been so occupied with stuff at the park (amongst other things) he had no room to complain- but Sadie did, and didn’t stifle herself.

“Again?” Sadie got her dirty hand swatted away from the pizza. “I get Dwight coming in late and Lucas isn’t even going to show?”

“You say that like I’m a consolation prize Sadie.” Morgan said. “I didn’t know I meant so little to you.”

“You know you’re the only one I can depend on. Without you I’d be so lonely this summer.” She said genuinely. She was at the garage tap her dad used to rinse his BMW, using some of the grease removing soap under her nails before Morgan would open the box up to her again.

“I’m here now? Sorry?” Dwight said through bites of pizza, somehow managing to get marinara sauce in his eyebrow.

“Yes you are. Too bad you didn’t have the decency to be fully dressed.”

Dwight looked down, smeared with grease across his chest and a minor cut from a rouge wire. They’d been reattaching Sadie’s tailpipe when he got all messy, adding slivers of bloodstone to the handlebars didn’t help keep his hands clean either. He was kind of glad Sadie hadn’t given him a minute to change. It was still humid as heck.

“She told me I stole her shirt,” was Dwight’s excuse.

“You did though.” Sadie said. The aforementioned shirt was laying on some table to the side of the garage, Eddie’s painted face staring at the ceiling with a hallow gaze. Not that there was anything interesting to fill it…

“Not like you’ve given me my shirt back yet.”

“We’ve been in the garage. And you’d have messed it up anyways.” Sadie picked up a slice of pizza and stuffed half of it in her mouth. Morgan shrugged, looking between them and deciding he was too lazy to figure if they were just messing with him. He’d seen them mix up their stuff before. The argument over who owned the signed photo of Sarah Michelle Gellar was bad enough (given that it was actually Lucas’s copy).

“And you’ve totally kept yours clean.” Dwight gestured to Sadie’s nearly black tank top. The hints of white only shone through on the back, but she didn’t mind.

“It’s a messing around shirt. I was going to cut it up for rags after this anyways.” Sadie swallowed, a piece of pepperoni falling on her knee. “We got those from the World Tour with my dad a few years ago, did you really want to ruin them?”

“Are you two done?” Morgan asked. “Or do I have to play mom and put you in time out?”

“You’re not my mom.” Sadie taunted back.

“My mom doesn’t put me in time outs though.”

Sadie laughed as he missed the joke.

“I can only hope to be as omniscient as your mom Sadie. Till then I have to focus on achievable superpowers.” Morgan said blithely.

“Like being super annoying?”

“You wound me.”

“Anyway…” Dwight looked between them confused. Morgan and Sadie could only clear up their laughter and get back to actual matters.

It was still bright outside Sadie’s garage, sunset not for another half hour. The elder neighbours had already gone to bed, but they would have been asleep by six nevertheless. Dwight swore he could see his little cousin wrecking hell on the Derry kids in hopscotch; might be another tiny blonde girl though. There wasn’t too much of a problem with being too loud, or getting too cold out in the garage so they had all the time in the world.

They talked a bit about further ruins they could add, Morgan suggesting a few he’d found from a Norse anthropology paper with his elder sister’s library pass. They’d already added all the protection and luck ones he’d suggested last time he did a symbol search. They weren’t sure if mixing Syrian and Scandinavian mythology was a mistake, but it couldn’t hurt surely? Sadie also filled Morgan and Dwight in on a gemstone shipment she had an eBay bid on. Hopefully she’d win it and get them a huge chunk of green sardonyx and lesser sapphires. Morgan asked if Mrs. O’Grady had eyed Dwight through the blinds and Sadie told him they would have to check the security camera.

Two boxes of pizza down, Morgan got that glint in his eye. “And how’s the secret boyfriend?”

“Not my boyfriend.” He opened up the next box of pizza, taking a quarter for himself as if Morgan hadn’t spoken. It was amazing he was still so skinny with the way he ate. Morgan noticed how he avoided his eyes.

“Sure. Then what do we call Larson? Future hunter-in-law?” Morgan took intense satisfaction from the owlish bewilderment Dwight displayed; if he was a bird he’d be fluffed up right now.

“He’s not-”

“I know, I know. But seriously did you see yourself?” He took his glasses off to wipe his eyes. “By the way have you seen your _whatever_ on Twitter?”

“You know I don’t use Twitter.”

Morgan chuckled, unlocking his phone and going to the app. “You should, you’d get so many followers. Conspiracy trolls get a lot of attention. Oh here it is.”

He flipped his phone around to show Dwight and Sadie the paparazzi photos on the TMZ twitter. They were a small flipbook of Julian and Isabelle walking side by side, then one of them holding hands and leaning in close, and then one of him throwing her in the waves with her looking pleasantly flirty. The caption was “ _We can’t even! Lovebirds spotted on private Miami beach, Jizzy is #2cute2handle. Full gallery @ TMZ.com_ ”.

“I have to hand it to them, their publicists are good. That staging is immaculate.” Morgan said, “Just the right amount of coyly private, while still being carefree enough to be believable. Couldn’t have done a better job myself. Well I could have, but the money shot is the kiss and you wait for later in a stunt relationship for that.”

“It’s so obviously fake though.” Sadie said, zooming in with a critical eye. “He’s just using her.”

“That’s only because you know some insider info. To the general public it’s perfectly legitimate, especially with what word do you like to throw around? Oh yeah, a heteronormative viewpoint.”

Sadie scowled, “How do you even know so much? I was just googling the other day.”

“You know my sister is a fan. I finally get to use this well of useless information about the _Something_ _Damaged_ cast.”

Dwight looked down at the photos. He knew in his head that it was fake but still…

“Do you think she knows?” Sadie asked trying to take the upper hand back.

“Probably not. I suppose Larson’s PR people pitched it as a good way to drum up publicity. Stars rarely get much of a say in these sorts of things.” Morgan was nonchalant. “Probably better she doesn’t. It would make her cold towards him I think. They’ve been co-stars a while, so I would hope he would tell her before someone else. It’d ruin their friendship I imagine.”

“You don’t even know what’s going on, you’re just speculating.” Sadie said. “I bet she knows.”

“But look at those comments though, the public doesn’t. Half of these kids think its true love, the others think that he’s involved with all of those Haven guys.”

“Oh don’t lie to me Morgan, you have their CD.”

“It’s fun to listen to- but seriously none of those fans would ever consider their perfect idol going for our favourite overly dramatic nerd lord.”

“Some of them have.”

“They’re crack shippers, they’re never taken seriously. It’s like the Sam/Satan shippers, really Sadie?”

“Oh you’re just a bookworm.” She said without an ounce of venom.

“Witch.” Morgan batted back, putting his ankle up on his knee.

Dwight didn’t get involved in the banter, his eyes lingering on that picture of Isabelle and Julian’s faces close. Curtained by her dark hair, meeting his gaze. It both reminded him of that dark space behind the door at the hotel pool but also of how unbelievable this entire situation was. He was just a distraction for Julian. He knew that. But if Julian didn’t know about Isabelle and Jessica… well he probably wouldn’t need him for fun or whatever this was. There was a line of beautiful people willing to chase Julian across the earth; instead he was using someone no one would ever suspect. He supposed it made sense. Didn’t mean it made this weird feeling any better.

“Dwight?”

Dwight’s head snapped up. Both of his friends looked worried, both leaning forward with concern.

“You okay?”

“Do you think this little girl in the background is a ghost?” Dwight said quickly, pointing to the photos.

Sadie still looked at him suspiciously. “What?”

Morgan pretended he hadn’t noticed. “I think its more evidence the photo was staged, obviously it’s not a private beach.”

“But she’s all out of focus!” Dwight said, starting a rambling anecdote about a disappearing portrait he’d seen in a cathedral. It had been a family vacation to Rome or something, he wasn’t really remembering it clearly. He felt Sadie’s eyes on him but thankfully she didn’t pursue the matter further. It managed to shift the conversation to photo exposure techniques, Soon the photo gallery and Sadie’s archive find were forgotten; between the three of them at least.

By the time it hit midnight Morgan had to say goodbye. Dwight's mom had also sent a text asking him for once to spend the night at his own home, she didn't like how often he was staying at his friend's homes (their parents would surely start to object). He realized she was right so Sadie had gone into the house to find the shirt Dwight had left from the last time he’d slept over. He remained the garage, uncomfortably sticky in the hot night air.

They’d put the vehicles back together, no grease splashing over to the far end of the three door garage where Sadie’s parents’ cars were. Her bike was kicked up near the bench. Before he’d left Morgan’d slapped a dozen overly glued Barbie stickers to her old helmet, she’d probably have to get a new one. She’d put it on the workbench near the laptop in hopes of cleaning it, but that was a bust.

The laptop was Dwight’s concern though. He’d not needed Sadie worrying over him. Now it was making him second guess things, which bugged him because for once he had been doing something where he was letting instincts be his guide. Now he was overthinking everything. He knew he shouldn’t, but he took his phone out anyways.

He scrolled down his contacts and hit “call”. He picked up on the fourth ring.

“Dwight?” Julian’s voice on the other line was tired, but it didn’t sound like he’d been woken up. “Why are you calling?”

“Is now a bad time?”

“No, I just got back to my room. What’s up?” Julian asked.

“I’m just wondering because I don’t know your fans that well- how normal is it for them to ship you with other guys?”

Julian paused. “Pretty normal. Why do you ask?”

“And they don’t really think you’re queer?”

“Only conspiracy nuts who think I’m gay but seriously, what’s happening?” Julian sounded angry.

Dwight didn’t feel like now was the time to bring up that green haired cashier. Something in him said no; so he bent the truth. “I was just thinking, with you doing this thing with your costar… I just wanted to know if maybe social media would get suspicious or something. I don’t want to have to be shoved behind a bush or something if you come by the park and someone has a camera.”

Julian’s tone lightened, laughing. “If anything it’ll make it easier to hide in plain sight- just bros being bros or some shit. This is not my first time playing these games Houston.”

“Are you sure?”

“As if they would even know what to look for.” A door creaked in the back of Julian’s call. Dwight heard a click and an echo like he was put on speakerphone.

“You shouldn’t have to fake something just to protect yourself.” Dwight considered.

“I’m protecting Isabelle as well.” The echo in Julian’s voice made it sound like he was in a bathroom. His voice muffled for a second before coming back clear. “It’s not boring like some other publicity stunts.”

Dwight tucked his hand around himself, feeling very cold all of a sudden. “So you two are having fun right?”

“Yeah. Oh also, by the way thanks so much for today. I had no idea you played bass. First the singing, now this. What else are you hiding from me Houston?”

“My mom had me do music classes as a kid. After violin most string instruments are easy.” Dwight found himself volunteering freely. “It’s just knowing where to put your fingers.”

Julian got closer to the phone. “That sounds like a damn innuendo. Is that why you’re so good with your hands? Fucking musicians, I swear.”

“Fucking musicians seems a little on the nose for this conversation- but it’s not really a thing.”

“Bullshit it’s not a thing, it was hot Houston. If it had only been us- ugh, you’re terrible.”

Dwight blushed. He heard a tap start running. “Are you in the shower?”

“About to be. I’ve got sand in places I reserve only for special occasions.”

That explained the muffled sounds and the echo.

Something occurred to him. “So you’re…”

“Yep.” Julian popped the P, smirking so much Dwight could hear it. “I’d send you a picture but phone hacks are a thing. You’ll just have to imagine it.”

“Oh my god.” Dwight covered his face with his hand, a part of him wishing he hadn’t called and the other half wishing he hadn’t called from Sadie’s garage.

“You’re really embarrassed? I could let you listen in.”

That, in a bittersweet way, was when Sadie walked back into the garage.

“No I’m good. Glad we got that figured out! Talk to you tomorrow!” Dwight said quickly, hanging up and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Sadie held up the missing shirt. “Found it under a pile of pillows. Hasn’t been washed but label says its yours.”

“Thanks.” Dwight took it and pulled it over his head gratefully.

“Who was that on the phone?” She asked, looking at Dwight’s red face. “Wait, don’t tell me, starts with a J ends with a Larson?”

“Not at all.” Dwight said, getting over to his car and fumbling for his keys in the cupholder.

“Nice try. Wear better pants next time.” She smacked his arm and laughed. “It says it loud and clear.”

Dwight looked down and blushed. “Shut up.”

“Never.”

\---

**SomethingDamagedFansOfficial: JULIAN LARSON AND ISABELLE MONTERO AT IT AGAIN!**

Photoset 06.25.2011.jpeg [download here]

_This evening reporters from TMZ found the Something Damaged duo frolicking in the Miami waves. Only time will tell if it’s more than just onscreen chemistry. Isabelle Montero went on record on Florida Morning News to say she and Larson are not an item, but it’s hard to deny that eye contact. “Intimate friendship”? We’d like a piece of that Miss Montero. ;)_

_For more updates follow SDFans-Official on Twitter or Facebook!_

**Comments:**

8SafeAngel8: What IS AIR? If I can’t have him at least Izzy can! They’re so cute together!!!!

LarsonFucker: I think it’s all a stunt, she’s just using him because he’s got projects outside of the show. Totally gross.

TheAmyPierce: She was so lying in that interview <3 <3 <3 <3 she had the necklace on even. It’s so happening i could cry.

work-with-it22: OMG GUYS I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS RIGHT NOW, I’M SO EXCITED. FIRST HE’S ALL OVER THE PLACE WITH CLARK AND NOW IZZY, MY HEART. #multishippinggoals

MyPersonalHaven: @work-with-it22 SAME

8SafeAngel8: @work-with-it22 OMG I DIDN’T THINK OF THAT SAME

RealGrant: omg love it

HavensAngels444: I need more of this in my life. Do you think it’s because their characters are going to date next season? Because I would love that!

asinglepringlecant: omggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg

lazyyboi: okay but haven/larson ot6 (I can’t wait for the tour)

annamarsupial: okay but did anyone actually see the link to the full Universal photoset with Clark’s stepbrother? I’m writing a primer [link] and there’s something *everyone* needs to see.

0paljewelb0ccx: @annamarsupial omg what? Where did you get those?

LarsonFucker: You guys are so delusional. You know he’s really with Clark, this is just for management. I mean he spends more time with him anyways, didn’t you see the photoset from Universal the other day? He’s hanging out with Clark’s family- you don’t see him with Isabelle’s friends. It’s all a setup.

the-damaged-sandwich: Like they could force Julian to do anything he didn’t want to do. He’s a HUGE celebrity. Like he’d do a PR relationship.

LarsonFucker: You’re fucking stupid. Of course celebrities do PR relationships.

the-damaged-sandwich: well you’re just some stupid slash fan – he’s straight, get over it! Not everything has to be gay.

LarsonFucker: Well you would know, you’re so far up his PR’s ass you might as well be

Somethingperfect: hey cut it out! Who is this helping?

Mod-Amanda: Guys keep it civil or I’m going to have to delete these comments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I brought back that cashier from Chapter 5 who assumes Julian and Dwight are dating, but only recognizes Dwight.   
> -Mod-Amanda is the SD-Fans Official interviewer who has popped up a few times now with Krissy her camerawoman.   
> -This was supposed to be a full blog/tumblr/twitter style chapter but the formatting would be a nightmare so I scrapped that concept.   
> -Sadie is my fave.   
> -Alternate title for Dwight's videos was Xxknightofthenight666xX but that would have been too real; I had to sneak Youtube!AU in here again.   
> -CPCoulter herself suggested fixing his car as an excuse to keep Dwight shirtless; and I took it a step farther by keeping him a shirtless grease monkey for the whole chapter.   
> -There are some mixed emotions in my boy that I wanted to explore but mostly the fact Julian and Dwight haven't labeled this thing they have is weighing on Dwight. He hasn't labeled himself because he can explain who he is to other people; but the fact he can't explain or quantify what's going on with Julian is making him anxious. He likes to understand and answer questions; but Julian is a giant puzzle box, just like Dwight is to him.   
> -Was almost going to end this chapter in a sext but Julian wouldn't be that stupid to do that on a hackable phone. NSA listening to potential phonesex is okay though.   
> -Chapter Title credited to Avril Lavigne


	19. When We Rock-And-Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some explicit stuff.  
> Okay maybe a lot.  
> But not a lot to some people.  
> I made myself gayer through writing this.  
> Now begone children.

_His face hit the mattress, muffled by sheets and pillows. Julian moaned, feeling his arms pressed down hard._

_Shadowy and taller than normal, Dwight held Julian down like a prisoner; his forearm over his shoulder blades. Julian felt a bite to his ear and twitched up, only to be met with a dark voice._

_“Ah ah, I decide what you do.” Julian felt how hard Dwight was against his ass, no clothes separating them; just sweat and seconds._

_“Come on, please just…” Julian strained, panting into the sheets as he felt himself stiff against his stomach. He keened upwards trying to get some friction but Dwight shut him down again._

_A reddened mouth bit a mark into the side of his neck, leaving bruises down his spine. Julian’s voice left him, moaning instead. Dwight chuckled. “Who said you could talk?”_

_He whimpered, Dwight’s mouth on his shoulder and thumbs digging deep into the small of his back. He felt raw, stripped down with that breath in his ear and a warm body against his back._

_“Please, just fuck me, ah, shit!”_

_“Careful what you wish for.” The voice that was, and wasn’t Dwight’s said._

_He felt his hips lifted, hands grabbing him and- ah fuck. Julian clenched his fists, it felt so good. There was no softness or hesitation. Just pure pleasure._

_Julian moaned into the sheets, feeling everything. He bit down hard on his lip, trying not to scream with how good it was. He could hear the crack of the headboard against the wall, rhythmic and loud. Fuck yes._

_There were shadows on the edges of his vision, holding together whatever this room was beyond the bed. It wasn’t clear, but how he felt was. The tightness in his groin and the cool darkness pounding him to orgasm._

A voice cut through the shadows. “Boss?”

Julian groaned. No, come on. The dream was almost over. It wasn’t like he’d ever be able to convince Dwight to be this rough in real life. Just five more minutes. Those hands were still on him, that length was still inside him. He was so close.

“Get up Boss!”

Julian grasped at sheets, trying to ignore the world. But the shadows evaporated when Carlos opened the curtains wide. The after-dawn filling the room with white light and more bird song than Julian had thought possible in a metropolitan center.

Carmen was shaking his shoulder, a set of easily changeable clothes slung over her arm. “You’re supposed to be on set for 7am.”

“This is not your job guys.” Julian said, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He tried to close his eyes back to his dream, but it was gone.

“Call it going beyond the call of duty.” Carmen said, pulling the sheets off his face. “I’m not joking about the set. Your friend Montero has a late night guest who’s still there. I thought you’d like to talk some sense into her before the morning paparazzi make their rounds for pre-makeup photos.”

He remembered in a bleary part of his mind that his manager had said something about this. They would be sending photographers to get him going to work with Isabelle. And she had a… shit!

Julian scrambled out of bed, ignoring the aftereffects of his dream. If Carmen and Carlos decided to be his wakeup committee they could deal with the consequences. It’s not like he went to bed only in underwear because he expected company in the mornings.

“Coffee.” Was all he said as he started towards the washroom.

“Got it boss.” Carlos said, ducking out the door with his sister. “Charge it to your card or ours?”

“Mine obviously.” Julian snipped.

“Alright then. See you soon!” Carlos ducked out the door with his sister, looking excited at the prospect of free coffee.

He started on a quick change routine, running a comb through his hair. He didn’t need to do anything to his skin that would make Hair and Makeup angrily thrusting makeup wipes at him. But he wasn’t sure of Isabelle’s state. She might have to get made up before she even got to set if Jessica really had stayed the night. That girl had dark brown foundation that got all over Isabelle’s collars. And she was a biter (if the purple splotches Isabelle lazily covered up were any indication).

“Careless.” Julian muttered.

Leaving his hotel room was always sad. He preferred sleep to most activities and his hotel room was so comfortable.

He shoved his phone in his pocket and the work wallet in the other. Giving himself one last admiring look, Julian thought he really enjoyed having Carmen and Carlos around. Carmen had chosen a nice outfit, tailored white t-shirt and dark jeans. He didn’t need to edit anything, great.

When he got to Isabelle’s door, he didn’t even knock. If he interrupted things he didn’t care, he’d seen worse things online.

“Get up. We’ve got to be on set in half an hour.” Julian shut the door behind him loud enough to wake even the most sleep deprived starlets.

He was rewarded for his good deeds by Isabelle swearing loudly at him, and Jessica toppling from the bed with a shriek.

“I appreciate that this is a sensitive subject but you don’t have to swear.” Julian said, leaning against the closed door and picking at invisible dirt under his nails.

“What the hell Jules?” Isabelle asked, clutching her bedsheets to her bare chest.

“Jessica needs to get the hell out of here before the paparazzi at the front door catch a glimpse of you two playing house.” Julian rolled his eyes. “Honestly this is taking lazy mornings a bit too far.”

“There are cameras outside?” Jessica asked. Her head poked up from the floor on the opposite side of the bed. A ratty sleeping shirt told Julian this wasn’t the first time they’d made plans to stay the night together.

“Comes with the territory of celebrity.” He said.

Jessica was blown away. Isabelle was annoyed.

Nevertheless the girls did get dressed, yelling at Julian to close his eyes. He put a hand in front of his face lazily, with enough space between his fingers to tell them off when they were drifting towards each other again. He didn’t want to break up a makeout at this time of the morning.

It was a shame Jessica was probably queerer than most, she had a great ass. If he didn’t think Isabelle would kick him out for saying it, he’d have complimented her.

Once they were dressed Jessica was still trying to find her phone somewhere under the bed. Isabelle tried to help, but was looking between the floor and a compact. She had to put on a bare minimum of makeup so her dark circles wouldn’t be obvious to the photographers.

“Do you think our managers called the paparazzi?” Isabelle asked, patting on her concealer with a ring finger.

Julian looked down at his text messages; he’d told them he was getting Isabelle up so he might be late. His manager said ‘get a morning after selfie’. He looked up. “Probably.”

He crossed the room and held the phone up in front of them. “Pretend you like me okay?”

“What?” Isabelle almost dropped her compact.

“Manager is definitely behind this don’t worry.”

The picture was taken, Isabelle pretending to blush and look away from the camera. The bruises on her neck didn’t seem too much of a big deal now. It just meant Julian would be yelled at by the makeup department, not Isabelle this time.

Jessica found her phone right before they took the photo. Distraught she looked between them, confused. “What?”

“PR bullshit, don’t worry I’m not stealing your girl.” Julian called over to her. “I’m not her favourite J anymore, no matter what that necklace implies.”

Jessica coloured, her dark cheeks gaining a red tinge. “I wish I’d thought of it first honestly. But it would have been silver.”

“You’ll have to do that anyway. I’d love to wear something you got me.” Isabelle smiled, untangling herself from Julian’s adherence to his manager’s wishes and launched herself back at Jessica.

“You know you’re the only one for me sweetie.” Isabelle pulled Jessica close, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts.” Isabelle said firmly, a soft look in her eyes. Jessica looked transfixed by Isabelle, unbelieving that she had this girl with her.

Julian would have snapped at them to get a move again; but the look on Jessica’s face… He twisted his hands in his pockets, the phone away and his mind farther. When the moment was over he interrupted. “So are we going to get your girlfriend out the backdoor or what?”

Isabelle blushed. “We were getting to that.”

Julian didn’t miss how Jessica’s eyes lit up when Isabelle didn’t deny she was her girlfriend. He didn’t choose to comment. “Alright so let’s get going, my bodyguards should be outside to help us out.”

Indeed outside the doors was Carmen drinking from a cup with a long squiggle of sharpie notes on the side; Carlos had a tray in one hand, the other for his own drink.

Julian put on his sunglasses, glancing to Carmen. She shrugged, waving Carlos forward. “We thought the _chicas_ would want something.”

“You’re very generous with my money.” Julian deadpanned.

“You’ve got a lot of it Boss.” Carmen shot back with a smile, taking a sip out of her overly complex latte.

“How many extras did you add to your drink?”

“Enough that they think I’m a really tanned white girl with an attitude problem.”

“You’re having far too much fun with this.” Julian said accepting the coffee Carlos offered him. It smelled sickeningly sweet. Excellent.

“You never said I had to be bored in my job.” She looked back over to Isabelle and Jessica who were sipping the coffees that Carlos had gotten for them. They made a point of standing exactly one arm length away from each other in the hallway, looking about in case housecleaning or someone else rushed up the hallway. “Miss Montero, if you’d like I can take you and Julian over to the set. My brother will be more than happy to bring your friend to her car.”

Isabelle twitched at the word ‘friend’; Julian knew the feeling. Carmen meant well. It was part of making sure they didn’t go out of their way to tell the world Isabelle had gotten herself a girlfriend.

Jessica looked unsure but Carlos’ warm smile made her relax. He offered to take her down the staff stairwell so she could get to the parking lot by herself.

“I’ll call you?” Jessica said to Isabelle. Izzy nodded with a smile. Julian looked away as they split up, Isabelle following Carmen closely.

Before Jessica was led away she caught Julian by the arm; speaking quietly. “I’m not happy you two are doing this pretending, but thank you anyways. She’s not nearly ready enough to have everyone talking about her that way. She needs a friend on set- but only a friend. Got it?”

She thought he would mess around with Isabelle? The thought was humorous for a moment until he sobered at how she might dismiss him entirely if he was ‘gay’.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal her away. I’ve got more than enough girls throwing themselves at me.” Julian boasted, wishing he had his sunglasses to hide behind. “I don’t need to mess with one who’s taken.”

“Good.” Jessica said before Carlos pulled her away. Isabelle called back to Julian. He sped up, making sure he got into the elevator doors they were holding open for him.

The three of them had to cut through the dining room to get to the front door quicker. Carmen had his limo in a front lot spot specifically for VIPs so they didn’t have to go too far. The photographers were going to be a nightmare.

The dining room wasn’t too busy before seven am, but there were some business men eating toast in three piece suits. Julian thought he saw a congresswoman in fancy pajamas drowsily stirring her tea, talking to a political correspondence team about strategy. The rest were just casually dressed tourists or his fellow celebrities.

Namely Clark, Marcie, and Reed, sitting around a white tablecloth finishing up the remains of a full breakfast and coffee. Julian knew Clark was an early riser and cursed him for being able to have breakfast instead of wrangling a costar and her girlfriend like an underpaid handler.

“You coming to work, or do you have the morning off?”

“We can get to the studios in 15 minutes. I got a message that the film crew is running late on setup anyway, so we have some time.” Clark said, putting down a script he had highlighted for today’s scenes. The remains of what looked like fifteen pizza breakfast rolls lay on a plate in front of him.

“I see you two had a busy night.” Marcie said coyly looking up at Isabelle and Julian. She had her hands tangled in yarn, apparently teaching Reed cat’s cradle. He already had rope burn on his hands. How he managed that Julian had no clue. He was truly talented at injuring himself.

“Evidently.” Clark said, looking at how all the marks only seemed to be on Isabelle.

“Give me a break, like you never.” Julian said smoothly, playing the part of the smug boyfriend. He couldn’t say that was a role he ever really got to fill in real life. How strange.

“I want details.” Marcie said, transferring the yarn to Reed and giving the ‘couple’ her full attention.

“None of your business.” Julian wound an arm around Isabelle’s waist. She blushed, though mostly from embarrassment.

“Marcie, leave them alone. They’re both adults.” Clark said, looking at Isabelle mostly with worry.

“Julian’s barely one though, he’s not even nineteen yet.” Marcie said.

Reed was pointedly looking away from what he deemed a private conversation, trying to undo the mess Marcie had made of his hands. The more he struggled with it the more tangled he got though.

“Come on just- oh darn Reed are you okay? Marcie you know he’s clumsy.”

“It’s not my fault. It’s just a game.”

“I don’t mean to be a problem.”

“You’re not Reed, now do you have scissors in your bag?”

Clark used the opening to make a fuss over untangling Reed to draw attention off the faux-couple. Isabelle sighed when Carmen rushed them out the front door. Julian’s arm around her waist was only there long enough for photos to be snapped and the two of them to get in the back of the short limo. After that Isabelle just looked down at her phone, waiting for a response from Jessica of if she got home safely.

Julian looked up at the roof of the limo. He didn’t want to just ignore her but she seemed set on ignoring him. How wonderful. He pulled out his own phone, trying to not seem pathetic when he scrolled through his contacts to see what he’d been sent overnight.

Suonare sent him a few emails about the positive improvements Julian had put forward; thanks to the strange backstage session yesterday Suonare was ready to finish the final drafts for the sheet music. His manager had posted a slightly photo shopped version of his photo with Izzy to his twitter account. Julian didn’t like having other people using his social media, but this was business. There were a few Disney Aristocats gifs from the twins. Clark had asked him if he was free for dinner tonight with Marcie and Reed, apparently it was Reed’s last night in Orlando and Marcie wanted to try the Italian-Vietnamese place in the downtown core. He replied to that one with a tentative ‘maybe’, unsure what he would be doing this evening.

The last message was from the contact he’d been renaming periodically. This week he was simply DH. The text had been sent last night. “That was unfair and you know it.”

Julian smirked, wishing he had been able to see Dwight’s face when he’d heard the water from the shower starting. If he wasn’t a celebrity he might have sent a picture, requested one back. But his manager was now requesting access to his phone and his twitter; it would be easy enough for someone to hack in now that more people had his password.

He slouched in his seat looking over at Isabelle who seemed so happy texting her girlfriend. If she was hacked, as long as her texts weren’t explicit she could get away with I love you’s. He wished he could be happy like that, but he had been around the Hollywood block too many times to get comfortable. Love as a celebrity was unattainable, that’s why you simply had to grab for affection where you could find it and fuck emotions.

If he was a normal person he would have never been stalked. He would have never been outed to the other students. He would have never had a reason to be drawn to Dwight actually. It was kind of twisted honestly, being queer boys from Dalton were really the only things they had in common.

 _But you didn’t know he was queer when you started hanging around him. He just knew about you. Why did you stick around?_ Julian’s traitorous mind chimed in. He dismissed it. He wasn’t sure what sense his mind was making, it was still early in the morning.

All he knew is that he wanted to just have fun and explore people; enjoy them without fear or restriction. He got a bit of that with this guy, who on some level got him. At least he thought so. They were even sort of friends, if that was the right label to use.

He typed out, “It’s only unfair if you think it was the worst thing I could do.” It was vague, but hopefully he’d have something to look forward to in this drawn out day.

They arrived at the Studios to the usual bustle of crew and cameras. Hair and Makeup did indeed blame Julian for Isabelle’s bruises and he rolled his eyes for most of it.

Most of his scenes for the day were with Nathan and an extra. Nathan was trying to improvise because he felt the script was out of character that week, which in turn was messing up the cues for the extra. Julian was able to adapt quickly after working with Nathan for so long. It didn’t make much of a difference though with the extra hour added to the shoot. They couldn’t get mad at Nathan, it was poorly written.

The press had dropped by again for the middle of the morning between shoots. Entertainment Tonight was doing an exclusive on the new season and thought they would be coy to take a few rounds of the studios with their own camera person.

“Julian, Isabelle. It’s so great to see you two!” The chipper brunet said, one hand ready with his microphone to stick in their faces.

Isabelle had just gone over to the craft services table for lemonade while the set was being readjusted. Julian cursed that he had gone over at the same time. He plastered a brilliant smile on his face and let his arm drop to brush Isabelle’s hand. She mirrored him with the same false enthusiasm.

“Brandon was it? Great to see you again. I haven’t seen you since that album launch, who was it for again?” He recalled the rude young man who was trying to still milk the crazy stalker story months later.

“Oh you remembered me.” Brandon said pleased, “Yes I think it was one of the Lollapalooza artists, new talent very fierce. But how are you two doing?”

Isabelle raised her eyebrows at Julian, he shrugged his head to the side. “We’re fine. Filming is going quite smoothly today, we couldn’t ask for better conditions.”

“Oh yes, I heard the season is going to be wrapped later next month. Isn’t that a little long for a TV show?” Brandon said, eagerly waiting for an opportunity to talk about the presumably hot topic of their ‘relationship’.

“Yes well a lot of the problems are from the rain. It’s hard to shoot a beach party when it’s pouring. But it’s a nice change from LA.” Isabelle said. Julian wouldn’t be surprised if when they left the Studios it was raining again. It’d been a very wet week.

“And that’s not the only change right?” Brandon chimed in. “It’s been all over Twitter and Facebook. You two are the cutest thing since Brangelina adopted their third child.”

Julian could tell Isabelle didn’t like the comparison but he elbowed her subtlety. “We’re taking it one day at a time, it’s still very new to us as well.”

Brandon beamed at them, ignoring the stagehand who was trying to interrupt and get Isabelle back on set. “You have to tell us how it happened? Julian you had to have something dreamy up your sleeve for her.”

“We were trying to stay professional but then one day, I just asked her. I’m just lucky she felt the same way.”

“And there was no hesitation for you Isabelle? Julian does have quite a larger draw than you’re used to.”

Julian kept himself from hitting the ET journalist- and he used the term ‘journalist’ loosely. Their relationship may be PR, but not for any of the reasons people were thinking. He wouldn’t let people think he was some sort of idiot besotted with a gold-digging costar. To imply Isabelle was riding his film coattails was insulting, and rather underhanded.

“Julian’s just really sweet, really how can you resist this face?” Isabelle said, smiling up at her faux-boyfriend.

He let her step slightly aside. “I think they need you back on set.”

“Oh, sorry I have to go.” Isabelle said cheerily, dashing back over to the stage gratefully.

Julian spoke before Brandon even had a chance. “And I was just getting some water. I can see my cue is coming up. Good talking to you.”

Brandon was left standing there without a target for his early evening gossip show drivel to harass. He left soon after, seeing that most of the soundstages were being used and no one was going to take a break anytime soon. They all breathed a sigh of relief that they could get back to work when he left.

The producers seemed happy though. Julian’s phone was buzzing from ‘good job’ texts from his manager. He did get her to promise to put a cease and desist on the cut of Isabelle being undermined by that loathsome little gossip columnist. He didn’t want his name being cast under suspicion either, honestly it was completely altruistic. Mostly.

Before lunch he could see Natasha and Alicia chatting with Isabelle, a lively conversation underway. She seemed to be holding her own about their questions. He heard snippets of her talking about ‘we had a lot of fun on the beach the other day’. He wondered if it would come more easily to Isabelle to lie about them if she edited things she and Jessica did together. Or would that just make her slip up more easily. He really ought to have come up with a good narrative with her.

He waved off an attempt by Nathan to congratulate him and Isabelle on their new boyfriend/girlfriend status. He didn’t want this to get in the way of his work. It was supposed to be a help, not a hindrance.

“I’m taking a nap in my trailer, if you guys need me you can take a number.” Julian called out as lunch rolled around.

His scene with Nathan wasn’t going smoothly. They still needed to do a reshoot because the extra had dropped the cellphone their characters were arguing about. They didn’t really like having to clean up the shattered glass of the phone screen.

Thus he left with Carmen and Carlos at his sides, ignoring this episode’s director who was trying to tell him something about his blocking. He didn’t like how their usual guy had been put on the backburner this season. He needed his nap, everyone else could fuck off after this long morning.

The air conditioning cut the humidity as soon as he got back to his trailer. The rain had let up but the moisture in the air threatened its return at any second. He sighed gratefully, falling back onto his couch to take up all the space he could.

“You want us to grab something from craft services for you?” Carlos asked.

Julian put his sunglasses on the window ledge, dropping the shade, and closed his eyes. “I’m sick of the Studio food. Can’t we get something delivered? It’s not like money is an object.”

“You want something from the Parks, or for us to call into town?” Carlos asked.

“I dunno, surprise me.”

Carmen got a look in her eye, opening the door again. “Something local’s okay?”

“Whatever.”

“Sure thing boss!” Carlos said. The two of them were having too much fun with the black card he’d gotten for ‘general celebrity matters’. Either way it made it easier than having to work out receipts for every single back and forth purchase they made on his behalf.

With nothing hanging over his head for the next hour Julian was able to settle into his nap without interruption. Enjoying the sunbeam in through his window he stretched out, yawned, and fell asleep quickly.

He could tell when Carmen and Carlos were back from the level of chatter outside his window. He had his trailer parked in the quieter part of the lot. When he had both sides of windows open he could hear the Parks, but around him was mostly foot traffic. This foot traffic was speaking rapid Spanish.

Julian rolled over, swinging his feet down to the floor. “Carlos if you’re talking about one of those soap operas again I’ll have you know the acting is a far cry from anything good-”

When the door opened Julian was stopped, surprise overtaking his expression. “Oh.”

“Boss I don’t watch them because they’re realistic. I watch them because they make me feel things.” Carlos said, dropping one of the plastic bags of take away on the mirrored counter.

Carmen rolled her eyes at her brother, letting Dwight pass her one of the bags. “And we were actually talking about this boy giving me bass lessons. I need a hobby, right Carlos?”

“You need something alright.”

“Um, what are you doing here?” Julian interrupted, looking at Dwight a little confused.

The guy was just joking with his bodyguards like it was a normal day. Which he guessed it was, but he saw no paperwork or missing nametag or any pretense why Dwight would be here other than the Universal Parks lunches he was helping Carmen with.

“Carmen texted me to ask where the best food in the park was.” Dwight explained. “Lucky I was just going on lunch because otherwise I think your bodyguards were trying to buy you fried chicken to mess with you.”

“Fried chicken is good.” Carlos insisted.

Dwight shrugged. “There are mushroom burgers Fleur from the wizarding world told me about one time.”

“Fleur?”

“She just plays her, I never got her real name.” Dwight said. “But yeah, thought it’d appeal to your stuck up LA style.”

“I am not stuck up.” Julian wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You sure Boss?” Carmen said.

“Maybe just a little?” said Carlos.

“What?”

Dwight cracked a smile, revealing he was just teasing. Julian wanted a do over on this day, everyone was ganging up on him. Carmen and Carlos had their lunches in hand, the last bag for Julian left on the counter. They went back towards the door.

“You and SB have fun, we’re going to check the gates.” Then the siblings were gone.

“Do you want to eat?” Dwight sat down on the farthest edge of the coach, hands on his lap.

Julian’s look lingered longer than it should have, remembering his dream this morning. “Not feeling hungry right now.”

“Oh.” There was a beat. Dwight looked at him cautiously. “Is that because you want to-”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Dwight said disapprovingly, but Julian could see him biting the side of his mouth trying not to smile.

Julian smirked. “I could let you finish though, all ove-”

Dwight cut him off. “That is a terrible joke and you don’t deserve to say it.”

“I could though.”

“Yeah.”

Julian didn’t think they needed to keep talking, they were shoulder to shoulder anyway. He only had to lean a little further, and Dwight met him in the middle. As soon as they did Julian swung a knee up, arms around Dwight’s neck and straddled him.

It was odd to think about it given their history of non-association or open hostility; but he liked kissing Dwight Houston. He was a little awkward at first, but it always seemed to flow into a really good kiss; toe curling even.

Closed blinds and a soft couch, Julian only had to lean a little farther back to feel Dwight’s mouth chasing his. He ground his hips down realizing there was little for either to deny- more like a lot. Julian didn’t try to hide his smirk.

Dwight’s hands were at Julian’s sides, under the hem of Julian’s shirt already. Fabric hit the floor by habit now. Impatience was a virtue to Julian in these sorts of circumstances; he wanted to skip to the good parts quickly.

“Yeah.” He breathed, dark hair in his peripheral vision when he closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of not having to convince Dwight to go harsh on his collarbone, just under where fabric would cover it. “Keep going."

 

He tried to reach for Dwight’s waistband, bold and hungry. Dwight stopped his hand, continuing to bite at his shoulder moving down. Julian opened his eyes, “what?”

“You really don’t have to. I want to do something else.” Dwight said, holding Julian around the waist and flipping them around. Julian had barely enough time to register he was being carried before Dwight had put him back down on the couch, dropping his knees into the carpet in front of him.

Julian looked down at Dwight, who had his fingers hooked into Julian’s belt loops. He was meeting his eyes with an unspoken ‘is this okay?’ Julian raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’ Dwight replied by leaning his chin on Julian’s thigh and waiting.

“Oh you fucker.” Julian said, more fondly than he’d remembered being around Dwight before. He leant over to one of the various drawers near the couch and got a condom to throw at Dwight, who was trying not to laugh. “Do I have to do everything?”

“Not everything.” Dwight said, pulling Julian back down to the couch and undoing his jeans. The two of them got them off quickly, underwear following. Julian licking his lips when Dwight’s head dipped to see where he rolled the rubber down on Julian. He’d never been a fan of the things considering his good luck with clean partners, but it was almost sweet how insistent the guy was about them.

He didn’t think more about it when there was a touch of a warm mouth and hot hands on his thighs. Julian could feel the veins under the tender spot between his leg and his pelvis when Dwight moved his mouth there with needy nips to the skin. Head rolling down Julian enjoyed the feeling, pressing his hips up into the touch.

The sight of just the top of that inky black hair was a nice one, but even better when he started. Julian hissed in a breath. It was almost urgent the way Dwight went down. He wasn’t too impatient but Julian was glad he hadn’t drawn it out.

“Fuck.” Julian said as he felt Dwight taking him in farther. He liked going down on guys more but he would never turn down a return of the favour.

Dwight held his hips firm. Julian’s breath hitched, feeling the mouth sliding down him and sucking tightly. Long fingers pressed into his hipbones, hitting the hollows before the V on his stomach. A gasp was all he could manage when Dwight nearly got him all in.

“Yes, yes, come on.” Julian urged, bringing his foot up onto the edge of the couch, spreading his legs to give Dwight more room. He bucked up into his mouth, whining louder into the air as Dwight kept going.

Julian bent forward, groaning into the flush of heat to his groin. He grabbed onto Dwight’s lower back and cursed. “Fuck, fu- fuck!”

Panting, Julian didn’t want to get up but Dwight shifted off and nudged Julian upwards. His eyes had darkened so much Julian couldn’t tell where the brown began and the black ended.

Julian bent back down, tangling his fingers into Dwight’s hair and kissing him again. He murmured into his mouth, “Really want to do that to you.”

“Not tired?” Dwight asked supporting most of Julian’s weight as he leant forward.

“Not for this.” Julian insisted breathless.

Dwight didn’t fight it when Julian dropped to the floor and gestured Dwight back onto the couch. He undid his trousers but didn’t even bother pushing them all the way off, just getting them around his knees.

Julian could see Dwight breathe in sharply when Julian pulled him free, but biting the inside of his cheek wasn’t good enough. He wanted to see Dwight squirm.

Licking his lips Julian was almost needy the way he took Dwight in. He took a deep breath through his nose, not as desperate to get Dwight off as the last time he’d been on his knees in this trailer. It took him one swallow. He came back up to play with the head, rolling it around against his tongue and enjoying the feeling.

He liked when Dwight tensed up, Julian’s hand at the base and the other on Dwight’s thigh. He knew Dwight was trying to be quiet, some repressed shit Julian wasn’t about. He liked when Dwight got him to moan, licking down his neck last time on in impulse. Julian liked it so much he tried that along Dwight, rewarded by a poorly concealed moan.

Smirking, Julian looked up meeting Dwight’s eyes. He knew how he must look, mouth stretched and wet. He knew that was why Dwight bucked up into his mouth with little control. He slid his mouth down again, feeling tremors from Dwight as he went. Smug, he kept going.

Dwight made a noise, a little lower than his speaking voice in the back of his throat. Julian gripped Dwight’s leg tighter with delight, if he could get the guy to grunt that was even better. That sound with Julian held up against a wall- now that he knew Dwight could hold him up? Fuck. That was a beautiful image. He’d stay on his knees for another day if that was what it took to make that daydream happen.

That not-quite-grunt reappeared when Julian took him so deep he might had choked. It was a thrilling feeling he could do it this far in; his nose doing the real work while he kept his teeth covered and lips slick. His own pride was bolstering his performance, and preforming was what Julian did best.

Dwight’s hand found its way to Julian’s shoulder. Nails bit into Julian’s shoulder in a way he hadn’t figured he’d get from a guy. He could see above him Dwight’s eyes closed tight and his hair loose around his sweaty face. It felt good to have a visceral reaction when Dwight stiffened at his actions.

Julian moaned, muffled by the taste as he flattened his tongue and sucked. The pain bloomed in his shoulder but it made him go harder.

He could sense it before it was coming. Dwight stiffened a little harder, his sounds harder to conceal. Julian gripped his lips tighter around Dwight and rode it out. He couldn’t help but feel smug when Dwight came, low and shaken. The red half-moons in his shoulder would mark him for some time. Dwight took a few good thrusts to finish, panting something Julian couldn’t understand.

“That better be Spanish.” Julian wiped the corner of his mouth, sitting back on his heels. He was soft against his leg, not rushed for another round.

“You wouldn’t be mad if I said it was Latin?” Dwight struggled to say, looking dazed.

“Mildly.” Julian climbed up onto the couch nonetheless, sprawling his back across Dwight’s bare lap. He reached up to stroke Dwight’s happy trail. “What’d you say?”

“Prayer for mercy. Pretty generic actually, it’s not too specific.” Dwight explained, catching his breath.

“Glad to know I make an impression.” Julian caught him staring down the line of his bare body and licked his red mouth, making Dwight look away. A brown mark on the back of Dwight’s neck when he turned caught Julian’s attention.

“Do you have a tattoo?” Julian asked, brushing Dwight’s hair from the back of his neck.

“It’s henna. Sadie tries to do it whenever we’re home together. It’s supposed to prevent possession.” Dwight said, embarrassed but free with his information. “Now I know where I’ve seen that mark!” Julian said. “You like that show way too much.”

“It’s informative!” Dwight said, but didn’t keep a smile out of his voice.

“Sure.” Julian said teasingly. “They’re an unprofessional group of children.”

“I guess, but they have great blooper reels.”

Julian stretched, hooking an arm around Dwight’s waist and trying to settle into a comfortable position on Dwight’s bony lap. “Speaking of mistakes, it wasn’t one that you were here today. Couldn’t get enough of me huh?”

“I thought you shouldn’t just leave me hanging over that call last night. That was cruel.” Dwight said, his hand finding Julian’s hair.

Julian almost purred at the gesture. “I appreciate a man who gets revenge.”           

“That and Carmen asked me what was good for food in the park. I swear if I hadn’t intervened she would have gotten you KFC.” Dwight carded his hand through a receptive Julian’s hair.

A bell dinged in his head. “So that’s what she meant by ‘local’. I’m going to get her back that sneak.”

Julian didn’t say it with any malice when he realized his bodyguards were essentially pimping him out. He liked being curled up in Dwight’s lap, being petted after giving a good blowjob. He could take a nap like this.

That was when from outside the window, Julian heard him. A familiar voice talking with another that was regrettably becoming more familiar to him.

Julian let go of any pleasant daydreams he could have of Dwight, his head going up cursing. “That’s Clark. I know he’s looking for me, we have shoot this afternoon.”

Dwight got up off his elbows, beautifully disheveled. Julian wished he could take a picture. “What should I do?”

“I’ve got to get you out of here before Clark gets up my ass.” Julian paused. “I think Reed’s out there as well.”

“Wait what?” Dwight asked.

Julian slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, they’ll hear you.”

He got up off Dwight, peeking through the shades. Yeah, that was Clark and Reed coming towards his trailer, deep in conversation. He thought Clark had been saying something about this being Reed’s last day visiting him, yet here Reed was.

“Get your shit, Reed can’t see you here.” Julian whispered, sliding off the couch and pulling on a grey t-shirt that hadn’t been mussed by Dwight’s knees on the ground. “So much for him flying out today- shit shit shit.”

They didn’t know how much time they had before Reed and Clark were going to knock on the door, expecting just Julian for who knows how long a visit. So Dwight didn’t lose any time in following Julian’s request.

He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt longer than Julian wanted though, prompting Julian to curse and finish them for him. Dwight gave a little noise of surprise when Julian waved his hands away and finished the buttons for him, hands ending up near Dwight’s throat to pin him in by the tiny blue circles. Dwight looked down at Julian, mouth still red. Julian left his hands on Dwight’s collar.

He wasn’t staring he told himself; but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing Dwight soundly. He felt Dwight’s hands automatically go to pull him closer, feeling the two of them get hard again as it went on.

“For good luck.” Julian panted, pulling away before they ended up undressed again.

“Yeah.” Dwight said, not asking what he’d need luck for. He stepped back, pants tight and his nametag crooked. He tucked the tails of the shirt in, looking around for maybe a second door. “How am I going to get out without them seeing me?”

Julian realized their problem. “Shit, uh- window!”

“The window?”

“You’re a strong guy, it’s not a big drop. Quickly.” Julian went to the opposite side of the trailer from the door. The window opened a fraction for fresh air and it looked like just enough space for a person to fit through. The ground was between other trailers and led to the lot exit. It was a perfectly logical escape route.

The door trembled, someone knocking.

“You’ve got to go.” Julian said, tugging Dwight to the window.

“It’s too small.”

“Come on.”

The door was knocked on again.

"Okay, I’m hurrying," Dwight said trying to fit himself through the thin part of the trailer window that could open. Julian held his breath, controlling himself as Dwight fell rather than jumped out the window. It wasn't a far distance to the ground but from the thump, Dwight had not landed well.

Either way, Dwight was gone. So Julian was safe to open the door to... just Clark. `

"Where's Reed?" Was the first thing out of Julian's mouth. 

"Hi." Clark said mildly. "I didn't think I'd invite an awkward conversation by bringing him around again." 

"But I saw you guys out the window-" a thought occurred to him. "Don't tell me he took the back way as a shortcut." 

"Well it is quicker.” Clark started, but Julian was already back to the window.

When Dwight had fallen out of the window he had hit the ground rather gracelessly, landing on the pavement with thankfully minimal damage. His faltering attempts to get up without disturbing his now bruised arm and shoulder drew Reed’s attention as he passed by on his way off the lot.

"Dwight? What are you doing here?" Reed seemed more confused than disbelieving. Dwight rolled to the side quickly and sprung up anyways, trying to look natural. He failed, wincing from pain.

"I work here, I dunno what you're talking about." Dwight said quickly.

"I thought you worked in the Parks but-" Reed paused, "I didn’t know you had stuff to do in the Studios.”

"I thought you were with your brother, what are you doing on the studio grounds?" Dwight said, badly trying not to answer Reed directly. 

Meanwhile Julian was watching from his trailer window from behind the gauzy blinds. Clark was crouched next to him. 

"You two were hooking up and you couldn't have hidden him better?" Clark asked. 

"Don't you dare say I told you so Sawyer- I have this under control." 

"I was just asking a question. I don't think Reed would out you though." 

"He won't know anything if you stay quiet!" 

"What are they saying?" 

Down below Dwight was doing his best to offer to show Reed out; but Reed was clever enough to know something was up.

"Dwight why are you really here?" Reed asked, looking worried. "Is it that pretty bodyguard? You guys really seemed to be getting along the other day at the Amphitheatre, it's a bit of an age gap but-" 

"God no." Dwight said looking pained. "She'd kick my ass." 

"Don't get defensive. I thought you liked women who could kick your ass, you go on enough about Buffy and that hunter girl from Teen Wolf." 

"Doesn't mean I want to... whatever them." Dwight said, waving his hands without looking at Reed. 

Julian wanted to punch him- this was the night at the pool all over again, when it was important the guy could not avoid a leading question. How he thought he could do any form of investigation was a mystery to Julian. Right now he just hoped he lead wouldn't reel him in. 

"So... Were you here for her brother?" Reed ventured. "I guess if you're all working here at Universal it's only natural." 

While that wasn't technically true Dwight thankfully didn't correct Reed that Carmen and Carlos worked for Julian not Universal Studios. He did turn bright red, stammer something about both of them being too old and successfully ping Reed's increasingly sceptical mind. He seemed like a ditzy guy but clue him into something and that Windsor nosiness took over. 

"I am not into Carlos, not that he’s not- what are you even- I am just working!" Dwight said quickly. "I mean I ran into them earlier and we got to talking. Now I need to get back to work or my mom will kill me. Board of directors something like that." 

Reed tried to catch him before he moved away but only succeeded in falling flat on his face. He reached and missed Dwight's sleeve and Dwight, being Dwight, stayed to help him up. 

"You okay?" Dwight asked. 

"Yeah." Reed wiped the spot of blood that dotted the curve of his nostril. "Bloody nose notwithstanding." 

"You need a tissue, I think I have one." Dwight rummaged in his pockets and when he found one offered it to Reed. 

Reed took it quietly and looked up at Dwight, who was still red and flustered. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but are you straight?" 

Clark had to bite his lip as they spied from the window. Julian was trying to contain his frustration. "One more question and Reed's going to make the connection that Dwight’s outside my damn trailer." 

Clark, again being gracious enough not to say I told you so shook his head. "He doesn't know it's your trailer, I didn't tell him I was coming to see you specifically. He's never been in the lot before remember?" 

"Why are you reassuring me?" 

"I'm your friend, just because you're in a bad position doesn't mean I want to make you feel worse." 

"I don't deserve you." Julian said honestly. 

Down below Dwight was quiet. He didn't know that Julian was listening in, but at this point his friend was asking him a straightforward question and he owes him some honesty. 

"Mostly, but not totally." Dwight said, leaning against the side of the trailer. His name tag was on backwards and it just had the employee call codes showing. He became very interested in it, looking anywhere but Reed. 

"I didn't mean to pry, but when I asked about that security guy-" 

"Reed I know you don't mean it in a bad way, but it's not a big deal." 

"How long have you known?" 

"Few months, end of this year really. Didn't feel he need to question it before that." Dwight shrugged. "Least it's easier than you, I know people had running bets when you'd come out or if you were already out, assuming stuff. I don't want to deal with that." 

"Yeah, I've got a boyfriend but not a label. Not the easiest to explain back home in New York- there isn't much room from ambiguity up there." Reed laughed, pulling the tissue away from his board and frowning when it was still bright red. 

"I figure you'd get it. I'm not like the twins where I like everyone, just some people." 

"And who's the ‘someone’?" Reed asked. 

Dwight paused, but the calm that had overtaken the conversation seemed to calm his nerves. He didn't want to answer, but he couldn't let Reed draw his own conclusions. "No one in particular. I had someone, but it wasn't serious." 

"Did you want it to be?" 

Julian knew he wasn't going to be implicated now, but he kept listening, Clark at his side- suddenly it felt more invasive to be listening. He knew who Dwight was talking about but he wanted to hear if he’d tell Reed the same thing. Something in him needed to hear it, getting tight and angry at the thought of Hendricks. 

Dwight crossed his arms, considering. “I never really pictured myself dating. I have more important things on my mind. If it happened, well that would have been cool but I’m okay that we’re still friends.”

“Do I know him?”

“Yeah, he’s my year though.” Dwight admitted.

“You sure you didn’t feel anything else? It’s hard to get involved with someone and not fall in love.”

“Not everyone has a love-at-first-annoyance fairy tale Reed.” Dwight teased. “I think I would know if I was in love.”

“You are pretty unobservant though.”

“I am not! I’ve got a trained eye to notice even the tiniest detail-”

“Unobservant about people. I mean you’ve gotten better but I still can’t get over when you compared Logan to a STD because he kept coming back to ruin Blaine’s life.” Reed said,

 _What?_ Julian choked. Of all the things to compare Logan Wright to… well it was pretty accurate actually.

“That was one time, and come on are you telling me he’s not a reoccurring problem at Dalton? I swear he’ll try and break you and Shane up next and then I’ll have to clean up the fall out because I’m the only sane Windsor.”

“Sure.” Reed said, disagreement in his tone if not in his words. “I’ve heard he’s gotten better. The twins have a source that says he’s back on his meds, so he’s probably going to be okay come September.”

“You know I think he’s possessed, meds or not.” Dwight said, serious. “He’s gone off them before and let’s remember how that ended for everyone.”

“Well the twins seem convinced, and you know how they are about Logan.”

“Yeah, they know all about that guy.” Dwight glanced up to the tinted trailer window, unknowingly meeting Julian’s gaze. Sighing he continued. “I don’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt after all that has happened. He hurt you guys, he’s screwed up; hell he’s not even that good a prefect, Chaz and Bancroft had to intervene so often last year. It’s kind of a mess whenever he’s around.”

That really struck a chord with Julian. He wasn’t sure how their conversation about Logan would have gone but he agreed reluctantly. While Logan might be better now, too much had happened. And if that was the Windsor’s opinion, well Julian had even more issues with the guy. It made him wonder what the number of blocked calls up to now.

On the other hand if Reed hadn’t brought Logan up Julian wouldn’t have even thought of him. He had been so busy with the show, his film, this PR stunt for Izzy, and well, Dwight Houston of all people. He hadn’t thought about Logan in days, maybe even weeks. It was something to consider.

“I get that Dwight, but don’t you think you should be more forgiving about things?” Reed asked. “It’s not like it’s his fault.”

“I am about the little things, even considering his situation. But this matters. You guys are my friends and he’s hurt a lot of you in different ways. On and off his meds, so no it is his fault. He has to be held accountable- I know I am.” Dwight said.

“Dwight…” Reed started, “What about Julian Larson? He’s also been an asshole to us and you helped him out the other day.”

Clark looked to Julian, who refused to show any nerves.

Dwight held his crossed arms firmer to his chest. “I didn’t know I was helping Larson, you told me it was a favour to you and your brother. It’d be kind of a jerk move to bail because you were trying to help a Stuart.”

“Aww thanks Dwight.” Reed said at Dwight’s false animosity towards Julian.

“Not really a problem, I was just late getting back home but that’s on me I guess.”

“Speaking of,” Reed said, “I’m sorry I interrupted your work… I guess you’ve got to get back to that.”

Dwight shrugged. “I was on lunch anyways. You want me to walk you out of here? You’ve got a plane to catch tonight right?”

“How’d you know that?” Reed asked surprised.

“I know everything Reed. You don’t get to be as good a hunter as I am without having good deductive reasoning.” Dwight boasted, leading Reed away from the trailers, their voices trailing off into the regular background noise of the Universal lot.

Clark looked over to Julian. He couldn’t read his mind, so if he didn’t say anything all he could do was wait.

Julian didn’t know how to feel about all of that. He certainly had a level of confidence in knowing whatever they had hadn’t been outed, but Dwight hadn’t kept his own status on the hush hush. On the other hand Dwight had been upfront that he wasn’t hiding anything about who he was as a person. If anyone would understand that weird nebulous zone of ‘not straight” it was Julian and Van Kamp. Considering the speculation that had followed Reed from the first day of school, all the way up to today Julian understood that. Only other people he was sure might get not being gay- but not straight- were the twins, and you never wanted the Brightmans to be your only options to talk to.

He wished maybe Reed would have been his friend back at Dalton. He’d have ruined that friendship quickly, he was enough of an asshole, but it would have been nice. Having someone empathetic and kind would have been a godsend. Derek had tried to understand, but it wasn’t quite the same as having someone who was there. It made him think of back when he was lecturing the Drama Club on blocking and Reed had been there for costuming- maybe they could have been friends.

But he did worry. Reed wasn’t the quietest gossip on the block. His best friend was Hummel and that kid didn’t know when to butt out of things he didn’t need to bother with. Julian didn’t know how much contact Logan and Kurt had. The only thing he was sure about was that one person just had to say one thing to one specific person- then all of a sudden the entirety of the Dalton grapevine is talking about that pathetic bastard who cried over Logan Wright for three years and then fucked the goth on a rebound.

That wasn’t fair to Dwight, who yes wore a lot of black but could pretend to be normal in the sunlight. If there was anything Julian wanted it was to avoid the fallout. Having Dwight talking to Reed more openly could ruin that. He liked the idea of not thinking about Logan Wright for another few weeks if he could. There was only so much stress he could handle in his life at one time. Dwight was his distraction, his friend even- not a hotline to that part of himself he was trying to leave behind.

“Julian?” Clark asked.

“No one found out anything about me.” Julian countered immediately.

“I know, but Reed knows about you. If he puts two and two together…” Clark said.

Julian stood up. “I won’t go to dinner with you, Marcie and Reed then. Three’s enough of a crowd anyways.”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s his last night here.” Clark said, following Julian.

“Which is why you shouldn’t just have your weird friends tagging along.” Julian said, finally opening the takeout box Carmen had brought back for him. It was cold. “I have stuff for the film to go over anyways. It’s fine. Spend time with your brother, have fun.”

“Is this because they mentioned Wright?” Clark asked.

“It’s about more than that.” Julian said, tossing the box out. He sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it okay?”

Clark didn’t smile wider than the acting one Julian had across his face. He could tell Julian wasn’t distraught but he was nervous. Shaking his head Clark stepped forward, letting Julian hug him. “You’re not running at least.”

“We have set this afternoon. They’d skin me alive if I ran.” Julian laughed.

“Yeah.” Clark said letting go of him. “You okay?”

“I will be,” he promised. It’s all he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -THIS IS WHAT YOU CAME FOR PEOPLE (ba dum TISS)  
> -Jessica/Isabelle are so sweet they're giving me a cavity and this was only something I thought up as I was writing the pool chapter. BEST SNAP DECISION EVER. I want a Jessica in my life.  
> \- Something "local" - think about it  
> -"Carmen pimps out her boss for takeout" was this chapter's prompt  
> \- This chapter was 9.5K... holy shit.  
> -OCs give me life.  
> -Dwight was supposed to fall out of the window onto Carmen and Carlos who were trying to smuggle him away; then Reed was supposed to come in, assume stuff about Carmen and Dwight, and Carmen was going to be, "he's a dude and practically a baby, I would never go for him kid what are you smoking?" (But then I realized that would be too awkward for writing entrances and exits, also it's established D&C&C get along so I can do without them actually there)  
> -I refuse to write the word dick or penis or cock because they are all equally disgusting words. This might be why I have a problem writing smut.  
> -I love you guys.  
> -Chapter Title by Adore Delano (no really, "I Really Like It" is a great song, _After Party_ on iTunes, check it out!!!)


	20. I'm Not That Cool and You Hate Me

The trailer was quiet. Its owner was not doing anything particularly important.

Which of course, was precisely why it was quiet.

Julian was bored out of his mind while he waited for a call to set. To pass the time he was surfing the internet searching for some sign of anything interesting to amuse himself; it wasn’t quite working.

He was caught up on his emails; Marque, his supervising producer, almost yelled at him in text to assure Julian everything was under control until principal photography began in the fall. Julian knew Marque was doing a good job but a part of him didn’t want to hand off control. He had to admit he was interfering with the job he was paying the guy to do. The email chain ended in him delegating the legal and financial proceedings to his own manager so he wouldn’t be tempted to do Marque’s job. He didn’t want to get a reputation as a meddler- especially if he was banking on getting other people’s money to do films in the future.

With nothing of his film to worry about, he turned to social media. His twitter was dead at the moment. He tried to do a Q&A but no one was online, most of his young fans still in school at this time of day. His own photo gallery was dull, he spent an hour trying to edit photos of Sonic and wishing he’d brought his hedgehog out East. Marcie was running a ‘send me cute cat photos’ thing, but retweeting only grey tabbies. Izzy’s account was now filled with pictures of food and himself- although the food had more emotional weight because he knew it was from an outing she’d had with Jessica.

The only recent thing on Clark’s profile were some photos of Reed’s visit. The rest of them were all contractually obligated tour promotion tweets. The latest and final selfie he’d taken with Reed at the airport (where he was crouching slightly to get his and Reed’s faces close together) had three hundred thousand likes.

Julian noted that the Haven fans had flocked to Reed’s tagged profile and jumped his follow count by a couple thousand. Scrolling through Reed’s twitter, he found it was mostly fashion retweets. There were no actual opinions but you could get a sense from the articles shared.

It ended up going on a clicking spree, clicking a retweet which led him to Hummel’s twitter. Oh wow, remind him why he didn’t like the guy. There were self-important petition links, a dozen scathing retorts in 140 characters or less, and the fashion sense of a Christmas present. Thank goodness he was in uniform most of the time Julian knew him, or he wouldn’t have been responsible for the dressing down he’d have given Hummel. Sure everyone had a right to be a walking stereotype; but it didn’t mean Julian had to look at him.

One more click. The twins appeared to share a twitter account. Or rather have two accounts which shared and liked the exact same things. However Ethan’s had about a thousand more followers- that was weird.

On the twins’s pages there was practically a link or a like about every single Dalton student past or present. He tried to follow a link to what looked like Merril’s profile, but it was only one retweet from last year. What a shame, he would have liked to see what his fans would have said if he started liking tweets from a girl who was not his ‘girlfriend’. They would probably be analyzing him following Reed. Then again, that would be a dick move to do to Merril…

Click. Click. Click. Stop. Shit.

He looked at the picture of Derek and Logan in one of the twin’s likes. It was part of a Spoiled Rich Kid article criticizing hyper rich teens, but they used Derek and Logan as the thumbnail. Probably why the twins had liked it.

The two of them looked happy. Julian felt something twist inside him when he recognized Logan’s place in the Hamptons, Michelle Wright’s distinct decorating style in the background. There were flower pots he hadn’t seen before next to the pool. It was a recent picture, probably not even a month old. Julian swallowed, thinking about how if he hadn’t thrown himself back into his work he might be up in New York on weekends. It was a short plane ride when you had the money he did.

They were having a good time without him. No matter what Derek said on the phone, trying to get a hold of him. Why did he click on this? He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to think about them; see them smiling without him. It almost made him want to be friends again before he remembered _three years. Three goddamn years._ He couldn’t put himself through that shit again.

He closed the page, holding his phone loosely without looking at it for a moment. What he’d give to get called to set right now. Right…

Now? There was no knock on the door when he thought it, as if the universe couldn’t bend to his will. Damn.

Somehow that reminded him of someone who might object to him trying to summon anything. He still hadn’t gotten around to finding what was sure to be a pretty incriminating Youtube channel. He didn’t think Dwight was some dark web user. It shouldn’t take too long.

It took less than ten minutes with some strategic searching in the Youtube search bar to find the terribly named _knightofthenight94_ account: a modest 6,000 subscriber count with a number of edit videos and a few vlogs. Most of the videos were analysis videos though, much like the recap channels devoted to _Something Damaged._

He found the original video that the girl in the sandwich shop had mentioned. He almost clicked off because of how awkward the opening graphic was- a blue and black smash cut right out of iMovie. On the bright side the background music sounded alright, if not for the feedback which revealed it was recorded off a laptop quality microphone like it was circa 2005.

“ _Hey it’s knightofthenight here with another video_ -” Dwight said from the screen, voice higher and cheeks chubbier. The video had been posted last year. He was probably even shorter than Julian at this time. Oh god.

He didn’t actually want to hear about Satan or whatever the video was about, so he scrolled through the channel’s overall video archive and found a meta on guest stars. Something actually relevant to him of course. He skipped the intro, not wanting to relive the awkward.

“- _the use of guest stars in_ Supernatural _has always played off the casting director’s sense of irony. Amber Benson, widely known as Tara from_ Buffy the Vampire Slayer _, was cast as a vampire herself in Season 2 of the show. Not only a subtle nod to those in the know, as someone who spent years on a show devoted to the supernatural, it’s a good role for her to be on the opposing end of the narrative; all the while serving as a basic guest star for the purposes of newer sci fi fans_.

“ _However not everyone was a sci fi cameo. Paris Hilton’s appearance in Season 5 was probably the most expensive guest star who played no other purpose than name recognition. Some have tried to debate me on this, but even if she is a fallen idol- hence the name of the episode- it could have been relayed without the use of the heiress. Still: irony in casting._ ”

It sounded like he was reading off a script, or reciting an essay- but any Dalton boy would be able to analysis a piece of pop culture media with their education. Julian watched, interested only in the obvious- would this Dwight of last summer mention him?

The video wasn’t that popular, only 70,000 views after a year and no click bait title. From a quick look at the mobile Youtube app on his phone, the two thumbnails saying “Featuring Sadie” jumped in numbers, but still didn’t go too high. If it was perverts, he couldn’t tell. None of the videos had her in the thumbnail, so he still didn’t have a face to put to Dwight’s mysterious right hand woman.

“ _Another expensive irony was Julian Larson’s guest spot in Season 4’s ‘After School Special’. Adding a level of intrigue to a flashback episode, the world famous actor was given a one off spot as a fellow bullied victim to a young Sam Winchester._ ”

Leaning the phone against his knee, Julian listened. He remembered that episode. His character was a guy called Martin who was also bullied by ‘Dirk the Jerk’ like one of the highschool-aged leads. Ignored by his brother, Sam drifted closer to Martin as a kindred outcast. One day while escaping Dirk by cutting through the woods, Sam and Martin ran into a supernatural creature (a hairy guy in a mask during filming, but a werewolf in post production). When attacked, Dean burst in with a shotgun to save them. However the damage was done, Martin yelled “freaks!” at the Winchesters and never spoke to Sam again.

Julian had found it a pretty straightforward episode. However he was glad he spent most of his time with other actors playing younger versions of Sam and Dean. He only saw the main stars once on a soundstage. “J2” as the fans called them online, were goofing off and making hell for the stage hands. Having been taught to respect the crew (hell for him if he didn’t) Julian might have lost his composure on their intentional blooper reel content.

“ _While it’s obvious the confrontation with the werewolf in the end was meant to make the ‘freak’ comment more dramatic after his character sympathized with young Sam for the whole episode, it is the most Larson move of the whole episode_.”

What?

Dwight’s small face on the screen continued. “ _It’s hard for anyone who knows anything about the star to be able to picture him as an insecure nerd; let alone the outcast of a highschool setting given his extensive career as a child star. It’s entirely in character for Larson to ignore people when they don’t benefit him. In his own limited school experience, he would be more like Dirk than Martin_.”

Julian switched off the video when Dwight switched gears to a Season 3 guest star. Pulling up his contacts, he selected ‘H- We Have a Problem’ as Carmen edited it the other day. He hit Call.

“Hello?”

“I’m more Dirk than Martin? Is this because I didn’t give in to your ridiculous demands to bring a random sophomore to work with me?”

“You found my YouTube channel.” Dwight said in monotone.

“I was bound to find it eventually- you look like a child, it’s terrible.” Julian said brushing it off. “But don’t worry, I’m on mobile so I can’t see how many girls are telling you to go to hell over your insult towards me. But really, what kind of a critique is that? The writing wasn’t my fault.”

“I’m sorry but you weren’t convincing! It’s not like I could say on Youtube I knew from experience what you actually sound like yelling ‘freak’ at someone. No one would believe me!” Dwight said. “You did everything wrong except the insult, or rather you did everything right except the insult.”

“It wasn’t me calling someone a freak though, it was the character.” Julian said dryly, sounding more amused than aloof. “It’s called acting Houston.”

“Considering back then I didn’t know what you being nice looked like, I think it was a fair critique.” Dwight said, going into _Supernatural_ rant mode. “But still it was a piss poor version of an outcast. You don’t just smile and act shy and then suddenly be able to pull out that level of nastiness to call someone a freak! If Martin had that shit inside him the whole time why did he never yell at the bully? You should have made Martin sound more scared if he’s so non-confrontational. It doesn’t fit!”

“Again, I didn’t write it.” Julian would have been insulted by all of this, but he could tell Dwight would not be convinced from his position on anything to do with _Supernatural._ If anything it was amusing to hear Dwight even try to critique acting, considering most of the acting he did watch was on low budget fantasy TV shows.

“I might not know much about your career but I know what works for that show, and you didn’t.”

“So if I ever get called back obviously I have to run it by you oh all seeing fanboy.” Julian put his feet up on his seat.

“Exactly what you should have done in the first place!” Dwight said.

“Except why would I bring some random Windsor kid along with me?”

“Because I know everything about the show?”

“More than the director?”

Dwight snorted. “They get new directors every season, and most of them hate Dean Winchester. You want to get it right, ask a fan.”

Thinking about _Something Damaged_ and some of the havoc wrought by guest directors he had to agree at least on a superficial level. “So, I’m guessing you just rant for hours, then cut what gets too crazy then?”

“Sadie edits and Morgan helps me write a lot of them. He tried to make me use cue cards for that one because I started going off topic.” Dwight said.

“It did sound a little like an essay.”

“I just thought it’d be easier than rambling at a camera and looking like an idiot.” Dwight said.

“Which is why I’m the actor and not you.”

“Okay shut up.” Julian imagined Dwight colouring, probably realizing he might have been too tough on Julian. But Dwight kept barreling forward. “Anyway, my roommate heard me recording a video one day and ripped into me on persuasive writing. I had to rewrite everything, so you’re not the only one to get on my case about the writing. Journalists I tell you.”

At the mention of Todd Julian bit the side of his mouth. He wasn’t going to mention what he had overheard the other day between Reed and Dwight; nor would he even question or thank Dwight for keeping his name out of it and offering Todd as an option instead. It wasn’t worth it when this conversation was supposed to be about messing with Dwight.

“And you chose to be persuasive with a username like _knightofthenight?_ And that commands respect how?”

“I made that channel when I was 13 okay? Give me a break!”

“Not at all. I might just google all references to it, see how many other random sandwich shop girls want to take photos of you because with 70,000 views. Obviously you’re an internet star.” Julian laughed.

“No!” Dwight’s voice wavered.

Julian stopped. There was something desperate to the edge of the way Dwight sounded through the phone.

“Please don’t google my username. It’s just- no.”

Was there something Dwight didn’t want anyone to see? Or just Julian not to see? He was curious but there was a pleading to Dwight’s voice. Maybe he would leave it for now but google it anyway later.

“More accusations against my acting career? Wow, you have no respect for me Dwight.” He continued, letting Dwight think he was just going to drop it. “So what are you doing right now? Since you have so much free time to insult the way I do my job, obviously you’re not doing yours.”

“I’m actually patrolling the Wizarding World again today. So yes I am at work but a particular moron in a clip on tie won’t let me do anything. It’s more like puke spotting with a lanyard.” Dwight said.

Julian looked out the window of his trailer, concrete steaming in the sun and humidity. He didn’t want to think of what would happen in a theme park with sick children in this weather.

“Come on Dwight, Jeremy’s clip on tie exudes power.” He mocked. “It’s real sexy work and someone’s gotta do it.”

“You are not helping here.” Dwight sounded pained.

“I am distracting you. That counts.” He stretched out in his vanity chair, spinning around lazily. “If you can’t annoy your friends into a better mood who can you annoy?”

“Your coworkers? Aren’t you also at work?” Dwight asked.

Julian sighed. “Technically, but it’s not like I’m in many scenes for this soundstage shoot. They are still on the fence if they want me in the background for this. So I’m stuck in my trailer on call until dinner.”

Dwight snorted. “It least my hours are stable, even if they never want to give me an actual job description.”

“Isn’t it just something along the line of ‘Jack of All Nepotism’?”

“It was an internship or summer camp.” Dwight said, good-humoured despite the teasing. “And there is no way I was going to be left with a bunch of idiots who think that forests have wifi.”

Julian thought it was actually because Mrs. Houston could keep an eye on her son, but he wasn’t going to say that. “That and you’d probably escape, find some poor old lady, and assault her because you would think she’s a witch.”

“Its backwoods Florida, of course she’s a witch.” Dwight kept it light, “Oh by the way are you free later?”

“I wish. My manager has got another ‘surprise’ photoshoot with Isabelle planned tonight. I do have all of tomorrow off though.” He offered.

“Cool. Do you want to go driving with me then?” Dwight asked.

“Uh, remember what happened last time?” Julian reminded him.

“This time I swear we won’t get assaulted by a nut farmer. I mean, I have to get back by a decent hour but-”

“Yes, as long as you don’t say ‘nut farmer’, it gives a weird mental image knowing Florida.”

“Oh come on.”

“‘Florida Man Becomes Nut Farmer, Florida Woman figured it would happen earlier’.” Julian said, trying to get Dwight to imagine it. “Seriously, this place is weird as fuck.”

“Shut up.” Dwight said. “Yeah, the veil between worlds is probably thinner here than other places, but the general public wouldn’t know a ghost if it hit them in the face. Florida Man aside.” Dwight said.

Julian picked at the nonexistent dirt under his nails. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”  

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I expect snacks.”

“I don’t know how you expect that out of me.” Dwight complained. “I’m an unpaid intern.”

“Dwight.” Julian said.

“Yes?” Dwight asked.

“You’re rich. You can afford to get me a truck of Funyuns.”

“I’m making a point!”

“I’m hanging up.”

Click.

\---

Julian didn’t end up getting called to set. Instead he took a nap until Carlos and Isabelle appeared on his trailer’s doorstep with the itinerary for their ‘private night out’. An example of a bigger oxymoron escaped Julian’s mind at that moment. Instead he allowed himself to be stuffed into a light olive green shirt that matched Isabelle’s green and ivory dress, which was specifically bought by her publicist in order to match the shiny J necklace around her neck.

The sun began to set when they got into the limo, Carmen behind the wheel with her Gaga playlist turned up. It wasn’t like Julian and Isabelle needed a quiet intimate car ride; they were both on their phones. The way to the restaurant in downtown Orlando wasn’t too long. It was known as a place where photographers happened to congregate (but also had been called consistently on celebrity couples for at least two years back).

Although within his own limo Julian still couldn’t openly react to the dry commentary on paparazzi Dwight was offering- or Dwight and his friend Morgan apparently. He liked the sound of this guy, reminded him a bit of Clark.

He thought for a moment about letting Isabelle in on it, telling her what funny thing Dwight had just said. She was smiling down at her own phone, giggling openly across the limo from him. The windows were black, and the partition was up, so even if Carmen and Carlos didn’t already know he’d be safe.

Would it be so hard, to say: ‘hey, here’s what Dwight sent me. He’s funny isn’t he? He’s why Jessica shouldn’t be worried about me stealing you away from her. Hey Isabelle, I know what it’s like. Hey, Isabelle you shouldn’t feel like I’m so selfless for doing this fake relationship for you because I’m bi. Hey Isabelle- I’m bi.”

Julian just typed another reply to Dwight, looking back down at his phone. Isabelle was too new to this, he couldn’t put that on her. Besides, at this point now, he wouldn’t know how to casually drop it into conversation. She thought she was having some grand secret romance and he didn’t want to steal her thunder. Not that it was really that similar- Jessica was her girlfriend, Dwight was sort of just his friend who fucked him occasionally... What did he even call this thing they had? Lovers was a word for France, fuckbuddy seemed trashy and wrong- maybe fling? Fling friend? Carmen would just call him his summer boy again, her description still seeming the most apt.

“Jessica just sent me a video of a pig in rain boots.” Isabelle flipped her phone around. “Isn’t that adorable?”

Julian looked at the video as it played, not really paying attention to the pig frolicking in a puddle. Isabelle’s smile gave him pause as she showed over what someone special had sent her. He knew she was sharing her happiness, but it still felt like she was shoving it in his face.

“Cute.” He turned off his own phone without sending a ‘bye’ text. Leaning back, Julian didn’t coo over the video like she presumably wanted. This is why he never ended up being a real boyfriend, he wasn’t very good at it.

“We’re almost at the restaurant. We should probably look the part.” He put his foot back down on the floor from where it had been resting on his left knee whilst reclined. The sounds of bustling city life were in full force outside the limo. He could feel them slowing down and he tried to put on his best fame face.

Isabelle looked hurt but tucked her phone away nonetheless. “You could be nicer you know.”

The limo rolled to a halt. The sounds of people calling their names started. Someone yelled ‘come on I know it’s them!’ Their publicists had done a good job calling down the masses to them. The black glass still revealed the name of the restaurant in illuminated lights from above. A quiet dinner, this was not going to be.

“If you wanted a saint maybe I should have suggested you date Clark.” Julian quipped, hearing the door open.

Isabelle didn’t reply as they stepped out into the flash of cameras.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -This and the next two chapters are all part of one large chapter (Working Title: Izzy and the Orange Groves, though this is like the prelude), but I'm finally posting some of it since the last update. It was one of the original self-prompts from the start of the story and it turned into a monster that I simply have to cut down now that I'm getting through to the end of it. Sorry for the wait. This was sort of like the prelude to the chapter, but it works as a shorter interlude for plot building reasons.   
> -I went back and forth on how many subscribers to give Dwight vs. actual views, and it's weird trying to pinpoint 2010 era Youtube fame. It wasn't quite the levels it started getting to in 2012/13, but still enough. And even though Dwight is rich, I can see the SHH trying to do it 'authentically' like real vloggers.   
> -There is a deleted scene of Dwight after he ends his call with Julian; he finds a lost kid and then leaves Jeremy to clean up hot puke outside Hogsmede. It's about 4 pages and it didn't fit with my mostly Julian limited perspective, it's a fun scene though.   
> -I like that Julian is finally trying to examine who Dwight exactly is to him; but nothing fits. Story of Dwight's oddball existence I suppose.   
> -Chapter Title by Lady Gaga


	21. Taking It Day by Day

“Three Egg Omelet, Lorraine style, egg whites only?” The purple haired waitress asked, placing the dish in front of Julian. He didn’t look up from his phone for a second, scrolling through one more photo from last night before setting it down. Her smile would be infectious for anyone else, but he wasn’t one for small talk.

He didn’t take his sunglasses off, just looked over the top of them. “Can I get some real cream, 15% or more? This creamer bullshit is just disgusting.”

The waitress flushed, embarrassed at the way his tone implied she had done something to piss him off. She twisted her hands in her apron and nodded her head. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

Her accent was less pronounced as a tightness held back her neutral words. Julian raised his eyebrows surprised. Apparently she had been being genuine before. Huh. Whatever. She should count herself as lucky she was working in this niche diner place instead of a goddamn Dennys.

He’d texted Dwight after his forced dinner with Isabelle last night. Dwight suggested they meet near the hotel, and Julian told him he’d let him know where he was. He didn’t really want to see Isabelle moping in the hotel’s restaurant this morning, so he went out. A quick google told him that this place had decent food, but didn’t get busy until lunchtime. Perfect for a celebrity who didn’t want to be mobbed, waiting for a friend he didn’t want his fans to find out about.

It was a modern diner, black and teak were a main motif. The windows onto the street covered the whole wall, but the booths still offered privacy. Julian had already taken advantage of the free flowing sugar dispenser for his coffee, but couldn’t take a sip until he got his cream. He could see it being an artist’s retreat for writing if it was open 24 hours, which it was only on weekends- which was weird. He’d been to a place a little like this in Vegas, where he holed up during one whirlwind trip as a kid that was kind of ruined when his mother wouldn’t let him sneak into clubs.

The waitress returned- her posture and smiles both a little straighter. She left the cream and asked if that would be all. Julian made an effort to smile that Hollywood smile, but she kept her gaze on her hands like he would turn her to stone with a direct look. Maybe he deserved that. But she should have been charmed, he was gorgeous, shouldn’t she realize that was as good an apology as she was going to get? He didn’t look like an asshole, no ostentatious Hollywood clothes or $3,000 watch- just his Aviators…

Carmen had teased him before he left about him dressing up. He didn’t really know what she was talking about; he was in his typical navy v-neck and jeans. The only thing that was really different from his casual look was there was a random pinky-orange belt he’d found in the clothes his agent had sent over at the beginning of the summer. Maybe it was in style, he didn’t know. He certainly didn’t spend more time than normal getting ready, even if he did debate over wearing mirrored lenses.

Overall he was looking forward to a proper day off, Julian thought while eating his omelet. No producers hounding him for press releases and to do promotional work. He wouldn’t be straining his relationship with Isabelle after a PR dinner last night. Clark wouldn’t be there to play on his conscience, as he was off in radio interviews all day for Haven’s Summer Tour. And him, he’d get to actually relax and not pretend to be a different him than he was.

The food was surprisingly edible. He took another bite as he sent his agent another text about the dinner photos. He’d mention this place as a possible PR stunt spot, but then he’d never be able to come back again. Chipper morning people aside, it wasn’t bad.

The chrome and steel door opened, the bell sounding from behind the counter. The ‘seat yourself’ sign was out, but the waitress still rushed past Julian’s table with an unnecessary swiftness. He frowned, but turned to look who had come in.

Dwight looked a little lost, looking about past the booths obviously trying to see where Julian was. He probably hadn’t anticipated that Julian would sit closer to the back of the place for a moment of privacy.

The guy looked both ridiculous and amazing. His hair was pulled back in one of those soccer headbands he’d seen the guys at Dalton use when they thought they were being European. A stupid black and silver shirt that looked like it was a reject from an alt-rock concert, with worn black jeans and a beaten up black coat. He’d question the coat, but he had a blazer himself since it rained in the early morning hours and the chill still clung to everything, much like Dwight’s pants. He took a long sip of his coffee, admiring the view before Dwight spotted him.

The waitress stopped short of crashing into Dwight, a menu in her apron and her real smile back on. “Hi welcome to The Sunrise Rooster, are you sitting in or taking out?”

Her face was flushed, Julian wasn’t sure if it was because she sped walked everywhere or if she just found Dwight attractive. Probably just the needless haste at 9am on a Tuesday, but again, needless haste on a Tuesday… He couldn’t fault her if she was giving the guy a long look up and down. He turned back to his food.

“Uh no, I’m just meeting a friend. He’s about your height, brown hair, probably wearing sunglasses-” Julian heard Dwight say.

The dregs of his coffee were disgusting so he finished off his omelet, wondering if she’d just point or actually show Dwight over. She had been so happy to help before she learnt Julian had no time for chit chat.

“Oh him.” The menu crinkled in her apron as she tucked it away. “Right this way.”

Julian didn’t look up as Dwight came over. “So you’re late.”

“It took me a while to find the place.” Dwight complained. “I don’t have a GPS so I had to use my phone.”

“Excuses.” Julian said, putting another bite in his mouth. He took off his sunglasses and looked across the table. “Also take that headband off; you’re not nearly cosmopolitan enough to pull that off. Stick with that middle America punk rock warlock shit you’ve got going on.”

“It’s Lucas’s, I couldn’t find a hair tie this morning.” Dwight said, taking it off anyways. Reaching up jostled the numerous silver and gold pendants around his neck and presumably under his collar as well. At least it was just two that were showing today.

“That’s your cousin right?” Julian nodded, not saying aloud that he liked the way Dwight’s hair brushed his face when it was messy.

“Yeah, and Morgan’s the one we were talking with last night.”

Julian was a bite away from finishing. The waitress came over to Dwight, “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Toast?”

Dwight looked a little confused, glancing to Julian who shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thank you though.”

She nodded, hands clasped together in front of her. “No problem.”

Julian smirked over at Dwight as she went back behind the counter to talk with the younger, black girl at the stove, a band shirt from the 2000s under her apron. For all Julian knew it was the same band as Dwight’s shirt; they didn't seem to be the sort to watch his show or movies, or else they wouldn't be staring at Dwight. They were trying to be surreptitious but he noticed. “You could probably get her number if you asked.”

“What?”

“I think the both of them think you’re hot, either that or she's just telling the cook how annoying I am.” Julian said putting his fork down.

“She’s a waitress, she’s got to be nice.” Dwight said, running a hand through his hair to try and get it out of his face. Julian realized he was staring like an idiot. Fuck this.

Julian stood up. “You really are oblivious to the effect you can have on people. Good thing you try and use your powers for good.”

“And people say I talk in nonsense, I only understood half of what you just said.”

“It’s only because you weren’t listening. Then again, if you had been you’d probably just accuse her of being possessed like you do everyone else.” Julian rifled through his wallet for some cash. He didn’t want to ask for the bill and have that girl come back.

“But she’s not posse- wait, is she?” Dwight asked alarmed.

Julian looked at Dwight from over his sunglasses.

“Really? You’re asking me?” He sighed, “Well she hasn’t tried to kill me so it points to reality being firmly in place around here.”

Julian pulled out a fifty, and threw it down next to his place; he didn’t care about change. It should more than cover the 15$ for a coffee and food, even with the extra cream and sugar if this place decided to charge for such a stupid thing.

“That’s a hell of a tip for someone you apparently find annoying.” Dwight noted as he followed Julian out.

“I don’t carry twenties.” Julian said.

“Ah, so you’re just a bitter old celebrity without an ounce of compassion in your husk of a heart.” Dwight noted sarcastically.

“Just how you like me Houston.” Julian leaned in; tugging at one of Dwight’s many pendants.

They were still outside the window of the diner. It was kind of nice to be this open, as neither employee inside seemed to recognize him. And it was nice to see Dwight blush in the light of day, rather than the artificial lighting of his trailer or a busted photocopier.

Dwight leaned towards Julian’s tug for half a second before shaking it off, looking around like nothing had happened. Julian didn’t stop holding onto the pendant, only letting go when Dwight turned.

“Yeah, so I parked over there. We should, ah, get going before you know someone recognizes you.”

“Of course.” Julian said, satisfied and walking towards that god-awful vintage car. “And do I get to know where we’re going on this weird ass drive- besides a promise of what we’re not seeing?”

“It’s just a drive out into the country- well, country-ish. It’s not the same kind of stuff you’d see in California; we can be pretty, but gators happen so we’ve got to be careful. It’s safe though.” Dwight explained, unlocking the car and holding the door open before going around to the driver’s side.

“If I get attacked by an alligator again I’m siccing Carmen on you.” Julian threatened.

“Why do you think I mentioned them? I’m not stupid enough to take you to a dangerous place without Carmen and Carlos- they’d kill me slowly and the cops would never find my body!”

“Exactly why I pay them.”

“Better than gator chow.”

“Stop sounding like a redneck.”

“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?”

“Drive Dwight.”

\---

_“You know I would concede, and I think we both agree, you and I can testify, that love is what we need.”_

An old rock song sang out from the speakers between them. Julian felt he knew it; his producers didn’t put B-Sides on the listening list for the film though, so it was a mystery as to who was singing. If he reached out a little further with his mind he thought he could name it. He didn’t want to though.

There were bits of swamp and bits of civilization out the windows as they drove down the two lane road. Gravel kicked up under the wheels of the Impala, clattering behind them too fast to be heard. The sight was green then brown, green then brown.

It would have been dusty if they’d been in California, but rain was plentiful here. They had already driven through a single raincloud with nothing else surrounding it. The single wet patch for a mile then gave out to a whole stretch of leftover rainfall from the morning. It was almost surreal.

_“Just take a look around you, livin’ for the future is blind. I believe what we can achieve will soon be left behind!”_

The windows had been rolled down. Wind blew through the car like ropes of humidity, so they’d elected to deal with the crappy air conditioning Dwight should have gotten fixed but hadn’t.

“It’s more authentic!” Dwight reasoned. The air conditioning was only slightly better than the humidity outside.

“ _It’s easy, taking it day by day!”_

The frizz in Julian’s hair said otherwise. “This isn’t _Super-goddamn-natural._ But they’re in Vancouver for filming; it’s humid as hell out there, of course they would have better air conditioning than this.”

“I’m not going to ruin my baby with too much modern technology; she’s vintage.” Dwight insisted.

“Because that stopped you from modding it in other ways of course.” Julian flicked at the jet rosary on the rear view mirror like it wasn’t a cliché.

“Those were necessary.”

“And air conditioning isn’t?”

“I don’t like being cold.” Dwight admitted.

“This is barely chilly. You’re weak.” Julian was about to put his feet back up on the dashboard before he caught Dwight’s glare. The last time he’d tried it, it hadn’t gone too well. He sunk back in his seat, looking back out the window with his forehead on the glass.

“ _’Do not read this sign under penalty of law’_.” He read out from the side of the road as they sped by what seemed to be the same grove of white buildings and swampy ditches. “I’m a criminal now Dwight, watch out.”

“I would still have a longer record than you,” Dwight noted.

Julian raised his eyebrows, “Would you?”

“Mostly trespassing.” Dwight explained. “But don’t worry about the sign. There’s a lot of weird shit around here, but it’s basically harmless.”

“And would you classify as that?” Julian asked.

“Am I basically harmless?” Dwight answered. “Well I’m not a ghost’s worst nightmare yet-”

“I really need to watch my humour with you. You don’t bother with the serious stuff, but you take the jokes literally. What is this, Oscar Wilde?”

“What?”

“ _The Importance of Being Earnest,_ didn’t you ever take Drama?” Julian took his forehead off the window pane, sitting back up.

“I took Music 101 as my art credit and they kicked me out of it within a week after the incident with the Hanover, copper A-strings, and a lawnmower.” Dwight explained. “For now they’re happier that I’m not around anything that encourages creativity.”

“I think I was in California for that,” Julian noted. “The Twins would have said something.”

“Like you even took notice of what the Freshmen were doing.”

“I took notice if Ethan and Evan mentioned it. They seemed almost proud of you after you stuffed our vents with garlic.” Julian said.

He didn’t veer off the road, but the gears did jerk a bit. “They told you guys?! I was wondering how your prefect was hauling me over the coals when I had made sure no one saw me do it! It set me back three months in my plans to smoke out the vampire in the senior class!”

“You mean that science student with anemia?”

“No, the other one.” Dwight shrugged, “But if it had the side effect of stopping Wright from harassing our house with whatever curses he seemed to bring with him, then that was cool too." He scowled. "Or it would have been if they didn’t rat me out.”

Julian blinked. “Other than the twins, who else would have done it? We already had a few suspects but the garlic was kind of a giveaway.”

“I had detention for a month!”

“Not that anyone actually goes to detention in Dalton. I bet your friends bailed you out and just paid off the substitute.”

“That’s not the point. Your minions would have done the same for you.” Dwight said.

He laughed, “I have minions? And who would they be?”

“I don’t know.” Dwight looked over from the road. “To be honest I always thought you were more of a henchman. At least that’s what Charlie said. I don’t think we ever had a conversation before this summer, even when you guys were accusing me of stealing your coffee shipment- which was David and Wes by the way.”

“It doesn’t matter who it was, that was underhanded.” Julian said. “And I resent being called a henchman.”

“Well knowing more about you yeah, you’re a diva and a half.” Dwight teased.

“I’m a star and I will not apologize for it.” Julian laughed.

“Makes me wonder why you never joined the Drama Club, or the Warblers even.”

“Because I actually have an acting career. I don’t need a prep school acapella group to get attention, it’s so low level it’s embarrassing to even think about.” Julian said. “Honestly I probably wouldn’t have even gone to school if puberty wasn’t a bitch.”

“Huh?” Dwight asked.

“You know how child stars sort of disappear for a bit, you don’t see them for like a couple years until they come back and you’re like, oh shit they’re older now! It’s usually when they’re old enough to shoot a gun in a movie.” Julian explained. “It’s too hard to film with them because everyone looks awkward and sounds like a cat swallowed a piano.”

“So like Dakota Fanning?“

Julian scowled. “No. Not her. She somehow skipped it and I want to know how she made that deal with the devil.”

Dwight snorted. "You sound like me.”

Julian looked over at him pointedly. “Dwight, I can be annoyed can’t I?”

“Yeah but-”

“I'm just saying it’s unfair she didn’t have to get shut up in a private school until she grew into her face.” Julian said. “And going back to those bird brains- why didn’t you join Warblers if you have such a good voice?”

“It’s not a good voice, it’s average at best.” Dwight replied, whizzing past another speed limit he was clearly ignoring.

“Okay, but all your friends from Windsor are in the Warblers.”

“And so were yours.” Dwight countered.

“Derek wasn’t.”

Dwight rolled his eyes, because obviously that correction made the world of differences. “I didn’t join Warblers for the same reason I didn’t join orchestra, I just didn’t want the attention. Unlike you I don’t mind keeping a low profile.”

“And yet you went skulking around those halls like some kind of Hot Topic nightmare from three years ago.” Julian said.

“You try eyeliner on once and suddenly you’re a goth.” Dwight complained. “This is not for some fashion statement, I just like long coats that’s it.”

“I like how you didn’t correct me on the other part.” Julian teased.

“Skulking is the only way to find information unless you want to go to the Caterpillar.”

“You have to admit you might have added some alternative flair to those bird brains.” Julian said. “A little rock and roll wouldn’t have done them any harm.”

“You’re hardly an authority on rock and roll, so excuse me if I don’t take your compliment that seriously.” Dwight said with a smile.

Julian nudged him, “I got a crash course for my film, okay?”

“You don’t even know what band this is!” Dwight said, turning the song up.

The song might have switched, Julian couldn’t tell. The style was the same though, that ‘you’re not sure if they’re actually good, or just can stay on-key’ voice singing away.

“ _And though I know all all about those men, still I don’t remember. Cos it was us baby, way before then.”_

Julian tried to remember one of the older bands Suonare had thrown at him for the soundtrack. had no clue but he gave it his best guess, “Um, Genesis?”

Dwight gave him a blank look before answering. “That was not even close but I will give you points for not saying something stupid like AC/DC.”

“Then what is it, oh god of rock?” Julian said with his hands up in mock defense.

“It’s Boston, you know like ‘More than a Feeling’? Or ‘ _all I want is to have some peace of mind_ ’?” Dwight imitated the melody. “The guitar is a dead giveaway. Didn’t your music director teach you anything about ‘70s rock? It’s like the building block of the classic rock era.”

“Well sue me for not knowing all the B-Sides of every band ever.” Julian snorted. “I can’t live up to your nerd boy standards of being able to regurgitate rock trivia.”

“You were just on me about not knowing an Oscar Wilde reference.”

“It’s an important play!” Julian insisted.

“Boston’s an important band!” Dwight threw it right back with a smile. “Come on, you can’t tell me you can’t recognize this music, it’s timeless.”

“ _And I meant every word I said, when I said that I love you_.” Dwight sung along, tapping the steering wheel while looking out at the winding, bog lined road.

Julian sat from where he was watching him. It was kind of endearing the way he nodded his head along; almost like the more he moved the more likely Julian would be to remember the band. He probably wouldn’t forget this for a long time, but it wouldn’t be the music that stuck with him.

“ _I meant that I love you forever. And I’m gonna keep on loving you, cos it’s the only thing I wanna do.”_

His hair caught the light, black turning bronzey-brown in the noon-high. He was smiling unguarded, looking freer than he had ever seen at school. The circles under his eyes almost faded. He’d take a picture to admire later but then Dwight might realize what he was singing, and by extension how confused it made Julian to be looking on so intently.

“ _I don’t wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on loving you_ \- Seriously, how can you not appreciate Boston? They’re just a great damn band, and without computers or autotune. It’s just pure.” He asked, explaining like the song was a universal experience.

Julian kept looking at the open expression on Dwight’s face. “Sure, whatever you say.”

He leant his head back against the window, feeling the warm glass against his forehead. Dwight kept drumming away on the steering wheel. There was a car coming the opposite direction, it passed them as soon as it appeared. Julian thought it was the first car he’d seen in a long time.

The song changed, presumably Boston again with that winding guitar melody. Dwight didn’t sing again. Julian wanted him to, but didn’t request it. The silence without questions was something he didn’t get out of people much these days.

Even when he was just sitting around with Clark these days, he could feel the barrage of questions Clark was too polite to ask. This was almost innocent in a way. He could fall asleep with his forehead against the glass, seeing the same roadsign again and again like counting sheep.

“’ _Do not read this sign under penalty of law’_.”

But he did.

\---

The sun was high in the sky when they stopped. Gravel clattering into the wheel wells and dirt still wet in the humidity, baking in the cloying heat. The engine quieted, which gave way to the rising buzz of conversation.

Julian pulled his shades back on when he opened his eyes, sitting up straight from his curled slouch. Dwight had parked on a muddy patch of grass and dirt near a bunch of other ugly (‘in your opinion,’ Dwight would say) cars. There was rows of fields that stretched out in long green and brown lines, pin straight and narrow save the odd assortment of buildings. What they were parked next to seemed to be one of those assortments.

“Wake up, I thought you’d like to see this.” Dwight said nudging Julian.

Julian frowned, looking over at Dwight. “I am awake. Jeez, what’s even going on?”

“It’s the farmer’s market. It doesn’t pop up too often this close to the city. It’s almost- well, not ominous but it’s unusual. You’ve never seen a market until you’ve seen a Florida roadside market.” Dwight opened the door with a grin.

Julian wanted to groan, the humidity blasting into the car and ruining what semblance of cool air they had. He really missed the air-conditioning in Hollywood, and the studio, and his hotel room. Even the beaches back home didn’t feel this wet.

Dwight opened his door, leaning over as if the closer he was the more likely Julian would move. Which didn’t make much sense but nothing about Dwight did normally.

“What about that illusive night market you were telling me about?”

“Oh that’s a Miami thing. City versus country are completely different types of markets. Not only are the ones in Miami cursed, they’re more spice oriented whereas you’ll get more fruit this way.” Dwight explained.

“Sure, okay let’s see it.” Julian shifted. He got out of the car, leaving his blazer in the back seat.

The market looked like any farmer’s market he’d seen back in California: simple canvas and aluminum tents, pavilions with wooden tables, handmade signs and twine-wrapped mason jars. There were a number of other people scattered, like someone had put a notice up about this place but there wasn’t a camera in sight.

“It’s mostly tech free.” Dwight said before Julian even asked. “A few orange booths have generators for the juice presses but I thought that’d be good because you don’t want to be recognized right? I don’t think anyone here even trusts televisions.”

Dwight kept saying it, how he wanted Julian to be comfortable and stay away from cameras. It didn’t seem to just be a thing he was saying though; it was touching in a way.

“Yeah. You really thought of everything huh Houston?”

“I’ve been told I’m overly prepared.” Dwight ducked his head, nervous.

Julian raised his hands as they walked towards the booths. “I wasn’t making fun of you.”

“For once.” Dwight smile returned though.

Limestone chips crackled under their feet, Julian wishing he’d worn something lighter- but what was lighter than a t-shirt? Well, it should have been white for once. Maybe Houston’s overly dark sense of style was rubbing off on him.

It was a quaint little place. The first booth near the parked cars looked just like any other. A plastic pavilion with a cheap aluminum table, it proudly advertised a sign in bold black letters reading “Peters’ Oranges”. For all intensive purposes it was a normal little booth; until Julian saw the owner.

"Hey there folks, name's Peters, you know, the farmer?" He greeted as they approached, an orange in hand. "How are you all doing today?"

There was something off about him. Either the way he held the orange so tightly like it was about to burst; or perhaps it was the unnerving smile on the man's face that didn't reach his eyes, with teeth yellowed and missing. Or maybe it was how all the bowls at the booth were empty, the only fruit in the hand of the farmer.

"Alright." Dwight said, not showing any notice that there was anything strange about the situation. He just looked down at the empty baskets, hands in his pockets.

Julian kept his eye on the farmer, his silence noted by the man. "And you son?"

"Fine." Julian said quickly, unsure if he was going to be pitched a marketing technique for imaginary oranges or told about how the Illuminati ran the world. It could go either way.

"Good to hear. Why I remember last time a couple of young folks came out to the local farmer's market," He sighed, the cartoonish plaid on his shirt shifting too much for just a simple movement. "Y'all should really check it out."

"Isn't this a Farmer's Market?" Julian asked.

"No, this is the roadside farmer's market. I mean the local one."

Great, now there were internal hipster layers to creepy hipsterdom. Julian looked over at Dwight, trying to see if he at all noticed how strange the guy was acting. Dwight didn't seem to even notice Julian looking at him. He put his hand into a basket as if picking up an orange, turning the nothing over in his hands, and then made as if to put it back brushing his palm off on his coat. Blinking, unnerved, Julian turned back to the farmer who was now a step closer.

"You folks would like it at the local market, I just have a good feeling about it. I've lived here a few years and there aint nothing like it." The smile seemed to grow wider.

Julian took a step back. "I'll keep it in mind."

"You better! You won't regret it." The man waved as Julian had to physically drag Dwight away from the stand.

"What the hell was that about?" Julian whispered to him, pressed up to his side and looking around like someone crazy was about to pop out at any moment.

"What was what about?" Dwight asked, looking down confused. "It was just an orange stand."

He didn't know how to respond other than the obvious, "There was no damn fruit!"

"Then what did he have in his hand? He was an orange farmer Julian." Dwight said like Julian was crazy.

"But that-" Julian sighed, "You know what, nevermind. Old people are just weird, I get it, indulge them. Just forget about it."

Dwight didn't seem to know what he was supposed to be forgetting, but he shrugged and let Julian drag him along nonetheless.

The next booth had actual items for sale, not just empty baskets purportedly full of fruit. This one was a flowery blackboard sign with a logo drawn in coloured chalk. The woman sitting at the booth was surrounded by actual food: jars of almond and cashew butter, salted sunflower seeds, pine nuts, green labeled brittle wrapped in crinkly paper, and nuts and seeds sold by the pound in a large barrel next to the table.

"Hey, you looking for some wholesome organic legumes?" She called out as they approached. "I got the best you could find in the whole county."

Julian was still cautious from the last booth, but her long grey hair stopped short of her elbows, which he supposed just made her a hippie. There was enough of them back in California but they tended to avoid the Hollywood Hills. Harmless enough he supposed.

"How is brittle wholesome? Isn't it just sugar and nuts?" Dwight queried, holding up a piece of plastic wrapped candy.

She giggled like a schoolgirl. "Everything is healthy in the right doses. Why the right type of herbs will keep you smiling, but too much of a good thing and you're in an early grave for sure. All those preservatives they put in food nowadays, it's just silly!"

Dwight kept the candy in his hand, digging a dollar out of his pocket; he gestured to the spread. "You want anything?"

"Not sure." Julian looked from Dwight to the food to the old lady.

She dipped a scoop into the barrel of sunflower seeds, accepting Dwight's bill with a sweet smile. "Don't worry dearie, if you're not sure you could always go to the local farmer's market. They've got a lot more nuts than the ones around here I'll tell you that for free."

"Like almonds?" Dwight asked reproachfully. Julian side eyed him, sometimes he wasn't sure if Dwight was being serious, paranoid, clueless, or a mixture of the three.

"Like whatever you want it to mean hon." She said genially. "Now unless you're going to buy something, you and your little friend should get going before the rain hits."

The sun shone bright above them, heat baking down into their skin. The ground was almost steaming, pebbles glaring in the sunshine. Julian didn't know what she meant, but compared to the imaginary oranges at the last booth it seemed less 'wtf' and more 'weird old lady'.

"Thanks, we'll keep that in mind." Julian said, the batty smile on the woman's face not faltering.

Dwight said the same, following Julian's quick walk and unwrapping the brittle as he did. He offered a piece. "It's peanut."

"Just keep walking." Julian said exasperatedly; dragging Dwight along by the wrist. Dwight didn't seem too bothered, looking about and eating.

For once it was Julian who was paranoid. Was this what Florida was? If so it explained a lot about Dwight.

They passed a few booths; for a roadside market it had quite a bit of land. If you looked beyond the tents you could see fields, so probably a farm let them use the space. The occupants of those booths seemed quiet enough. It was strange around here, but so far it seemed to just be in his head. The other people milling around didn’t even look his way. He hadn’t seen a single camera, even from the younger people around.

One booth had a motherly woman with baskets of corn; sitting with who could only be her husband and daughter. They were chatty, offering ears at 50 cents each, not that Julian could take it home. She asked Julian how much sugar he ate daily. He laughed, saying it was a lot, thinking of his coffee order. Her smile faltered, nodding with a glazed look as she said "yes, it's all corn syrup."

Wouldn't that be good? She grew corn? Health nuts. What the hell.

Dwight was pointing out little things, like who was from out of the county or who he had never seen before. Nothing too big, it didn't seem like he actually knew that much about farming. Honestly if he did, it would be weird. It had made a lot of sense that he came from theme park people, especially theme park people from Florida- it was one of those things that turned out to explain everything. But if Dwight had some secret rural past he'd start calling bullshit on his entire backstory like it was a bad screenplay.

It was when the first clap of thunder hit that Julian realized he'd been holding onto Dwight the whole time. Clouds that were light and fluffy a minute ago were replaced by dark, heavy rainclouds. Almost in an instant the hot day turned into an even hotter downpour. Lightning streaked the suddenly dark sky, shocking Julian into gripping the back of Dwight’s wrist harder.

Even though Julian was the one holding onto him, Dwight found a way to still pull him into the nearest tarp covered booth. Though Julian didn't mind the rain, he could see the logic in not having them both struck by lightning. Especially given the fact he'd once seen Dwight cursing at the sky during a rainstorm at Dalton, looking like a drowned rat even under his umbrella.  

"So is this Zeus' fault again?" Julian asked, more amused at the memory than he was at the time.

"Not likely, Florida is a pretty rainy state. Honestly it's been pretty dry this summer so we were due for some rain." Dwight put his hand up to his head, forcing Julian to let go of him. He ruffled his hair, trying to get it to dry, but that was a stretch in the humidity. "Guess it's a shock seeing this much rain since your hometown is in a drought?"

"I have seen rain before in my life. It's not some kind of shock." Julian said with a chuckle; though the speed it had come on had been, though he wasn't about to say that aloud. "I actually like the rain, it's calming."

Dwight reached out to try and brush the water off Julian’s shoulder before it soaked in, it didn’t work though. “Your blazer is still in the car and I don’t want Carmen to kill me if you get sick. Shit, least it’s not cold today."

"You're not my mom, jeez."

"It would be really weird if I was- I'm just saying." Dwight said, head ducked and his hand fiddling with a pendant around his neck.

"Ahem." A voice came from behind them.

Ah yes, the owner of the booth. Jeez, couldn't they have a damn conversation without being pressured into buyi-

"What the fuck?" Julian recoiled, interrupting his own train of thought. They'd turned around to face the owner of the booth, and instead of some weird old hippie or a stereotypical farmer it was a middle aged guy in plaid- with arms, neck, and chin covered in a swarm of bees. The buzzing filled the air. Irritation was written all over the man’s face. He seemed unperturbed of his current situation. Instead he approached the two of them, intent on conversation.

"No offense but are you damn turtledoves going to buy anything?" He asked, a single honeybee crawling across his eyebrows.

Julian stared at him, gobsmacked. Dwight for once in the excursion seemed just as concerned. "Are the bees supposed to be doing that?"

The man smiled, a slit of a thing. "They're swarming. It's typical when they're between hives. I sell the honey off but it's not going to be easy if they don't have any honeycomb to fill. So I'm just letting them use me until I get something figured out."

"And this is just... a thing... you do?" Julian couldn't help but ask.

"Easier than dealing with some rich city kids who aren't going to buy anything; I gots honey, honeycomb, honey biscuits, honey ham- and orange marmalade." He almost sounded kind for a moment, pausing.

"I also have a little thing I like to call- I ain't a **free** **umbrella**!"

His voice raised. The bees pulsed.

Dwight yelped and tucked Julian under his arm. "Got it!"

Any other part of the state, heck the country, Julian would have swore at the guy and let him have it. Today? After what he had already seen he wasn't going to go toe to toe with a guy covered in bees.

"Bees?" Julian asked, incredibly confused.

Back out in the rain wasn't so bad. It wasn't a painful downpour, just back to drizzling. Either way, he was better off than he was back in that tent. Dwight's arm over his shoulder didn't hurt either.

"Bees." Dwight confirmed. "Come on, I know the next guy, he won't yell at us for using him as an umbrella."

Julian couldn't believe what was going on. He let Dwight lead him to a tarp over wooden tables. Once under the tarp he checked him phone, just to try and see if Carmen could come and get him if Dwight was suddenly murdered by a Floridian farmer. No service. He growled, putting his phone back in his pocket. No wonder no one had any electronics, it was a damn middle of nowhere. What had he gotten himself into?

Dwight let him go, crossing over to the seat where the owner of the booth sat. There was already two women over talking with him; but one look at Dwight and they scampered out, probably too awkward to deal with what seemed to constitute a crowd in this place. For a moment Julian thought they were scared of Dwight, but for once, Dwight was the least weird thing in the entire area.

At least this booth seemed normal. The sign said "fresh orange juice" and it actually had it; not empty bowls of fruit. Baskets were full and beckoning. Ripe, round oranges with the leaves still attached and advertised by bushel, pound, or each. The man Dwight was talking too also looked normal in a blue collared shirt, and coveralls with the farm logo. The table next to the guy had a cash box, a juicer, and a pile of cups.

"Julian come on, this is Ed." Dwight said, calling him over next to him. "He's how I found this place. He told me about it when I found him out in St. Augustine."

"Things were better before you started poking into stuff Houston, but we all gotta get back to our real lives sometime." Ed said drearily, his sallow cheeks at odds with the blistering farmer's tan on his dusky arms. "You're new, where he dig you up?"

Dwight sighed, "Not like that Ed. Julian's a friend from school."

Ed looked him up and down, tossing an orange in his hands like he was trying to size Julian up. "Sure? He looks like a guy I used to know in the crematorium. And you know that ain't a good thing."

"You worked at a crematorium?" Julian asked. "How do you go from that to orange farming?"

Ed tilted his head to the side, weighing his answer. "Worked is a loose word, but seeing enough stuff die kind of makes a guy want to help get it living; cyclical and all that. Besides, the family farm needed a little extra boost and we do most of the stuff for Tropicana. Wanna try?"

"It's actually good." Dwight offered, sitting on the edge of the table with the juicer. There was a momentary 'don't do that' from Ed before he gave up, and kept letting Dwight do it.

"I wouldn't sell it if it wasn't good stuff Houston." He poured a couple cups of orange juice from the juicer. Half a cup wasn't filled so he snatched an orange from besides Dwight's hands, adding that in too- peel and all. "You're gonna drive all my customers away if you keep talking like that to your friends, especially those 'school friends' of yours."

Dwight looked away, pink on his cheeks. Ed shaking the cup of orange juice.

"I know what Powell talks to me about. The board doesn't lie. But seriously," Ed turned back to Julian, "it's the good shit."

"What the fuck are you guys even talking about?" Julian said, accepting the offered cup.

Dwight sniffed his own, snapping his fingers beside it and waiting before taking a sip.

Ed glared at Dwight. "Don't mistrust me like that man."

“Force of habit.” Dwight apologized; turning to answer Julian with a shrug, "It's just local drama.”

"I have a feeling I don't want to know." Julian said, drinking his cup. It was sickeningly sweet- pulpy but smooth in some weird contradiction. He didn't know where the peel went. He was searching for some kind of bitter aftertaste but there wasn't any.

There was a pause before Ed seemed to crack a long, slow smile at him. Considering Julian was about to compliment him, he swallowed his words but not the juice in his mouth.

"I knew it would work." Ed grinned.

"Come on, Ed I trusted you. You promised you wouldn’t make it weird." Dwight whined, finishing his own orange juice anyways. It made Julian's stomach settle even if he didn't finish his own juice.

Ed gleefully cracked an orange open, his sickly skin almost glowing. Julian immediately stepped away behind Dwight when he saw it. Rot ran through the entire orange, blue and grey fluff and electric green specks with black streaks. For all of the mold, the outside of it looked completely unaffected.

While he couldn't imagine an orange like that making pure orange juice, Dwight seemed to have been expecting this.

"Change it back, come on. We both know you and Ned had a deal. Once is enough. Wear your gloves or else you're done." Dwight lectured him.

"It was just a test. I didn't use this orange! The boss would kill me, but think of the possibilities. Unlimited food, for everyone! No spoilage if we could only figure out a way to mass produ-" Ed explained before Dwight cut him off.

"And how would your boss feel if you told him you were using this fruit at the market?" That seemed to give Ed pause.

"He'd sent me to the market in town."

Dwight nodded, like it made all the sense in the world. "The market in town. And we agreed this was much better for you right?"

"As long as you keep Walters out of it. That kid makes me feel guilty even without talking to me." Ed said disappointed.

Julian stared, “What the hell?”

Dwight turned to him, shaking his head, but when he spoke there was a vein of worry in it. Either that or Dwight could disguise a lie in a different way than nonchalance. "Ed likes to trick people into thinking they ate weird things. He probably tried that orange joke on like five people before he got a rotten one."

Despite Dwight’s assurances, Ed's smile remained as unnervingly toothy as before. It seemed to gleam unnaturally, Ed's entire demeanor setting off his internal warnings. It wasn't everyday someone looked at you with a grin like oil-covered tiles.

"We're going." Julian announced, slamming the cup down and walking out before Dwight could say anything else.

The rain had stopped, but it didn’t make a difference to the mood. Julian felt like an outsider of a deranged conversation; a fringe member of a cult he somehow married into but didn't even know about until someone escaped. It was a surreal feeling to somehow not understand what was going on.

Once out of earshot Julian pulled him to the side, against a tarp covered tent and glared up at him.

"I’m sorry. He promised me last time I came here that he would cut it out. It’s really pretty gross but don’t worry, he wouldn’t actually put bad oranges in there- I mean it’s just- yeah it’s…” Dwight seemed to lose his train of thought as Julian stayed silent.

"Why did you bring me here? Everything is so fucking weird, and not like kind of off at a night at the Chinese Theatre when Gwenyth Paltrow tries to offer oatmeal scrub but like horror movie about to happen weird." Julian accused.

"Like I said, there are no camer-"

"Cameras would actually be able to explain this weirdness. I feel like it's some kind of prank show from five years ago, what gives?" Julian asked.

"Ed? I just said-”

“No not just Ed you idiot!” Julian said. “That damn hippie, the guy covered in bees?”

Dwight stammered, pink across his face. He didn’t seem to have a proper answer, at least not one that wouldn’t make Julian get more frustrated. “You always seem so stressed about all those meetings and shoots and shit it seemed like, you know, I mean, here you’re the normal one- not ‘Julian Larson’ celebrity. I know you like being that sometimes, but I mean I don’t like being Dwight Houston ‘future theme park owner’ all the time so like…”

“You just wanted to give me a break?”

Dwight nodded. “I thought it’d be nice.”

Julian would have smiled, the look on Dwight’s face made him look almost innocent. If not for one thing…

"You were holding invisible fruit." Julian said.

Dwight looked like a deer in the headlights, reaching for the inner pockets of his jacket. "...wait what?"

Julian realized Dwight hadn't noticed. And if paranoid-everything-could-kill-us-from-the-great-beyond Dwight hadn't noticed either it was nothing or it was something.

He was too famous to deal with this.

"Forget it. I was just testing you." Julian said.

This just had to be the way Florida was, and there was no way you could pay him to ask the kind of questions that would tell him if Florida explained Dwight, or Dwight explained Florida. If anything he found Dwight to be much calmer and in control around here, nothing like he seemed at Dalton. He preferred to keep it that way.

A confused look flashed across Dwight's face before he smiled, "I take it passed?"

Julian leant his head forward, almost like he was banging his head against a wall and that wall was Dwight. He curled his hands into the fabric of Dwight’s shirt and sighed, “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Dwight put a hand to Julian’s back almost reflexively. “You okay?”

“I’m good. Let’s just call it heat exhaustion.” Julian kept his head against Dwight’s chest, trying to understand how he got here. And how even though he was really weirded out, the thought of going back to his hotel room alone left him feeling sad.

“You want to see more or…” Julian looked up, giving him a glare. Dwight didn’t finish his sentence. “Yeah okay let’s go.”

Julian couldn’t be more grateful that Dwight was finally getting a hint. He hadn’t counted on how strange this day was turning out to be.

They walked back to the car, through the booths ignoring the vendors which somehow looked different from the first time they passed. Julian didn’t fight it when Dwight’s hand ended up around his, guiding him forward through somehow unfamiliar tents though there couldn’t have been more than twenty at first glance.

And it would just be his luck that at the end, in the same spot where “Peters’ Oranges” had stood- as if mocking him and his so-called solid view of reality- was a brand new stand that had sprung as if from nowhere.

It too was advertising oranges in large bold letters. Though this booth had full bushels, with real oranges in real baskets. It seemed more high tech, with a sign saying they accepted cheque not just cash. There were pre-bagged oranges in canvas sacks, yellow labels with “Florida Fine Fruits & Produce Ltd.” It seemed like a neat, organized booth.

Though no matter how Julian’s mind seemed to turn, trying to explain how the booth had suddenly appeared and replaced the invisible orange farmer; it seemed more concerned with the girl sitting on top of the table.

There in all her short-short’d glory, sandaled feet swinging was Isabelle looking like a magazine ad. Jessica was in front of her in a FFF&P Ltd. t-shirt, feeding her slices of orange. Presumably, telling her a string of joke as Isabelle started laughing.

“Orange county, huh?” Julian said to Dwight. “You were goddamn right. Since the pool thing.”

“That’s- oh that’s her.” Dwight said, recognizing Jessica from that night. “They’re cute.”

“What are the odds?” Julian remarked.

They wouldn’t be able to get past the booth without being spotted, but Julian could hope. He really didn’t want to have to have this conversation. Especially in front of a castmate who had a sickeningly adorable relationship. He didn’t have time to gag though. The car was so close.

Julian ducked his head, trying to use Dwight as a human shield. He pulled his sunglasses back down. It was almost a shame the rain had stopped, it would be easier to get by with the bad visibility. Of course as he predicted, it didn’t work.

“Julian?”

Isabelle touched down from the table, getting fresh mud on her sandals. Jessica turned, curious as to what she was looking at.

“Hi Izzy…. what a surprise seeing you here.” Julian said, trying not to sound awkward.

Dwight looked down at him. He didn’t seem sure if they were going to still go to the car, or stay back. He didn’t move either way, letting Julian get swept into a showbiz kiss on the cheek ritual.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until we were both back on set, you have the day off!” She greeted. She didn’t seem to harbour any ill feelings about his rude behaviour last night at dinner, though to be fair she had gotten to spend the day with her girlfriend. Spending time with Jessica presumably had cheered her significantly.

“You mentioned Jessica’s family owned a farm, I hadn’t thought she would drag you along on family business.” Julian deflecting, keeping it light.

Jessica caught up with her girlfriend, her dark curls springing out of her voluminous ponytail as she jogged. “Like I could drag her anywhere, she wanted to come along. Technically I should be in charge of the booth today, but I’m more just repping the business while one of the farm hands is in charge. I couldn’t just leave my girl alone.”

Isabelle got wrapped in a hug from behind, Jessica’s dark arms around her shoulders in a moment. Julian didn’t hesitate to notice the way Jessica’s hand covered the J necklace from Julian’s sight, just a hint of animosity in her gaze as she looked at Julian. Isabelle seemed unawares, just pleased to see him.

“I wanted to see what her family does.” Isabelle explained, “Though I have to say it’s a bit of a weird market. There was a guy who was probably breaking health codes with some stupid moldy orange trick.”

Julian pressed his lips together. “Yeah, it’s kind of… weird. Did you see the guy with the bees?”

“Bees?” Isabelle asked.

Jessica, from around her shoulders looked at Julian strangely. “That sounds like any beekeeper in the Southern States. They all kind of have bees.”

“No he had them swarming on him.” Julian explained. Isabelle made a creeped out face.

“Again normal.” Jessica said, unimpressed. “That’s just a good beekeeper.”

“I thought he was just mean.” Dwight shrugged, behind Julian. “I mean now that I think about it, I have seen honey stalls in the marshes doing that before.”

“Exactly good beekeeping! If the pollinators go then we’re all fucked,” Jessica said, letting go of Isabelle, gesturing up at Dwight. “You get it!”

“Is this a farm thing?” Isabelle asked her girlfriend, curious.

“No it’s a common sense thing.” She said, turning back to Dwight. “Hey wait, I recognize you. You’re that guy from the other week at the Theme Park when that Patrick guy got us wasted. You told me what my garage was doing to my car- good call on the Indian burial ground shit. That was kind of creepy.”

“A quick google search would have told you that.” Dwight said not trying to take too much credit, though Julian could see he was pleased.

Jessica continued, “Yeah so I switched garages and the technician actually fixed that chunk-a-chunga sound in the axel. I owe you one.”

“Wait, who is this?” Isabelle asked, looking between Jessica and Julian. She suddenly looked wary of how she had been standing with Jessica, even though even if the word girlfriend hadn’t been spoken it was kind of obvious what they were.

Dwight bit the inside of his cheek awkwardly, looking to Julian to okay an introduction. It had seemed less of a deal when they were all drunk and had him on speakerphone. Not that there was anything for her to assume about, but treading carefully seemed prudent nonetheless.

“I’m Dwight, Dwight Houston. You’re Isabelle right? We met the other night.” He held out his hand. “We were all a little out of it, it’s cool.”

“Did we?” Isabelle asked, shaking his hand. Julian noticed she was shifting nervously beside her girlfriend, looking at Julian with a look of worry. Why though he had no clue because there was no big secret she hadn’t already been flaunting at the booth already.

Julian eyed his friend, “Isabelle calm down I didn’t out you. He was the guy who snuck us into the studios, remember? Anyone actually paying attention would have seen you and Jess practically eye-fucking near the pool.”

Isabelle turned red, but that had seemed to be what she had been worried about. Dwight assured her, “you don’t have to worry, I really don’t have enough energy to go around spreading people’s personal details. I have a life.”

“Barely.” Julian quipped. Dwight elbowed him. Isabelle seemed mollified though.

“So you guys are friends?” Jess asked, “How did that happen, you don’t look like you hang around movie sets a lot, or else I’d probably recognize you from a tabloid or something.”

Dwight got a weird look on his face, “Yeah, no.”

Julian looks at Jess funny, “You didn’t even know we were actors, let alone from _Something_ _Damaged_ when you and your friends came over to our table.”

“Oh yeah, I guess Mel’ and Sarah dropped the ball on that one…” She said.

“You guys went to school together or something weird like that right?” Isabelle asked. “He doesn’t look like that constipated hardass or the blond pissbaby.”

Jess giggled as Dwight choked trying to stifle a laugh. He knew exactly who Isabelle was talking about. Julian shot him a look, though he couldn’t dispute the descriptions.

“We’re friends, but mostly just so I can scam free roller-coaster rides.” Julian explained.

“Oh yeah! You’re the shareholder’s kid! I can remember now.” Izzy said.

“Yeah my mom’s on the board, but still, I really shouldn’t have let you guys in. We almost got arrested- I mean if we hadn’t hidden-“ Dwight cut himself off, flushing and changing subjects. “So uh, what are you guys doing right now?”

Of all the times for Dwight to turn red. Julian had half an idea what he had recalled about that night; and while it made for a good story, this was not the company to discuss it with. The girls didn’t seem to notice thankfully.

“Iz and I were going back to my family’s farm after this,” Jessica said, suddenly excited. “You should join us! I mean, any friend of Izzy’s is a friend of mine. My housekeeper makes a mean rice pilaf.”

Isabelle, Dwight, and Julian exchanged looks; though all for different reasons, unease colouring their responses. Julian didn’t know what Dwight was thinking, but he knew Isabelle might have wanted some time alone with her girlfriend- let alone having a random friend of Julian’s hanging around. Julian himself, well now he was really torn that he hadn’t been able to tell her last night in the car. This would just end up being like Dalton all over again, tiptoeing in plain sight and relying on the assumptions of others lest he be branded a liar.

“Are you sure? We don’t want to intrude.” Dwight said slowly. Julian heaved a sigh of relief.

Jessica insisted though. “No, I totally owe you for my car. And Julian-” she said with a smile. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have dinner with my girlfriend without pretending to date her?”

If there hadn’t already been unease before, there was certainly some now. Dwight looking like he wanted to go back to the tent with the bees rather than standing around the tense look between Jessica and Julian.

Isabelle just took her girlfriend’s hand. “Jess, babe, you know why Julian and I have to do that.”

“I was joking!” Jessica said, laughing. There was a tinge of bitterness, but it didn’t seem to be malicious at least.

From that point on though there was no arguing with an impassioned Jessica. Isabelle didn’t even seem to offer too much of a rebuttal. If anything Julian and Dwight could now see how Isabelle got involved with such little fight on her part, despite Julian mentioning to Dwight he’d never even gotten a ping from her before.

They were told to follow Jessica’s lime green bug down the long two lane road, and that was the end of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -This really the bulk of the craziness that has been keeping me stalled for months. I originally thought of the chapter to be this kind of surreal mix of Welcome to Night Vale and a roadtrip film from the 1980s. Either way, my biggest problem is that that wouldn't have worked in the context of this story. The tone would be too different. So it went through a lot of editing.   
> -Deleted people from the market: A guy in a Dolphins jersey who keeps saying he's only lived here a few years, a racoon riding an alligator, and a woman who tells fortunes by cracking open nuts.   
> -Ed was originally supposed to be some kind of creature Dwight defeated, and was scared of him. I chose a more cordial relationship for them. Julian is told it's a joke, but I slipped in a Pushing Daisies reference so feel free to decide how thin the veil between worlds is here in this Florida. Ed is scared of Lucas though because Lucas has that "you did something wrong" mom vibe.   
> -"Bees?" was a challenge to myself to use that phrase from Cards Against Humanity in a story.   
> -Peters is a reference to Night Vale's "John Peters, you know the farmer?" who grows and sells imaginary produce.   
> -The entire chapter is a huge reference to the weather from a Welcome to Night Vale episode where it's a ballad about Peaches at a Roadside Stand.   
> -I was a bit of a dork and put myself and Lyn as the service staff in the diner at the beginning. My theme of no one in Florida having normal hair was too fun to resist.   
> -Jessica isn't really that bitter about it, but she's annoyed at the situation. Dwight and her also accept a lot of the weirdness going on because they can see what is just "Florida Weird" vs. "Supernatural as fuck weird." It's a thing.   
> -Chapter Title by Boston (Same song as Dwight sings)


	22. Square into a Circle

“This is where you live?”

Julian didn’t know why he was surprised, stepping out of Dwight’s car. He knew Jessica was rich, he knew it was large enough that Isabelle called it an ‘estate’, and he knew most farms were large. However he wasn’t prepared for the casual young woman in a beat up Volkswagen living in a mansion which wouldn’t have seemed out of place in the south of France, or the coast of Italy.

Bright orange tiles shone in the late afternoon sun, the recent rain clearing away any dust they might have had. The walls were sandy stucco with large arches over the doors, three stories up with a featured accent between the rows of windows. Modern influences were betrayed with frosted glass along the doors, electric lights, and smooth pavement leading up to overly perfect stonework walkway, like a magazine designed by an obsessive designer with an unlimited budget.

Was it something in the water here that made the rich kids disavow any trappings of wealth? Julian shot a glance to Dwight, who matched Jessica’s down to earth style. If you had money why pretend you don’t? He never got the homeless chic look which was so popular with celebrities. It seemed like acting you didn’t get paid for and no one believed.

Though, as he walked up the steps following Jessica and Isabelle’s easy banter he seemed to have fallen for it well enough. He supposed that was why Jessica was so at ease everywhere, even when she was breaking the rules with a bunch of celebrities she didn’t know; money bought confidence.

“Daydreaming?” Dwight nudged him forward, he was walking slower than he had realized.

“Not quite.” Julian said. “Do you live in a place like this?”

Dwight shook his head, “We’re in a gated community. It’s waterfront, but there’s no way we’d have a driveway this big.”

Julian wasn’t sure how to respond to that. At least Dwight wasn’t like Hummel, pretended to be rich when he wasn’t at all.

“Come on, or are you guys not hungry?” Jessica said, already opening the door after typing the security code on the alarm.

“I’m famished.” Isabelle declared, up the steps and in Jessica’s arms as soon as she was close enough for Jessica to scoop her up.

Julian rolled his eyes, it was one thing to be comfortable knowing no one would rat you out- it was another thing to be ‘that couple’. It made him wonder if Isabelle ever decided to kiss death fully and come out, would she still be as sickeningly sweet? Maybe. Maybe not. If she was in the middle of this nowhere acreage maybe she would. And he wouldn’t have to look at it.

“You okay?” Dwight asked him quietly as they stepped into the foyer.

“Stop fussing over me mother goose.” Julian said. Wondering how transparent he was being, or was Dwight simply being paranoid?

“I thought the phrase was mother hen?”

“Whatever.”

The inside of the mansion was huge, the ceiling going up another story to a landing with wrought iron detailing, modeled after new styles and villa aesthetics. It was decorated with iron and glass, reflecting light from the skylight and making everything seem natural and airy. It was inviting, a piano playing somewhere far in the back of the house some piece Julian could never recognize. The tinkling of the keys imbued the place with an elegance LA never could quite capture, if Julian admitted it to just himself.

“Irena I’m back! I brought extras for dinner!” Jessica called, dumping her wallet on a glass table by the door. Isabelle put her things next to it.

“Yes, yes Miss Jessica!” A Polish accent came from down the corridor. A clatter of metal echoed through the tiled hallway. Irena presumably hustled out of an open archway, her pressed uniform blending in with the neutral walls.

“Miss Jessica, you leave everything here. I could have taken these.” The housekeeper tutted, picking up Isabelle and Jessica’s belongings. “I bring these to the closet.”

“Irennnna.” Jessica whined, a grin on her face. “You know I haven’t been in there for years.”

“You joke, you joke.” Irena said briskly, as if she had heard that joke a hundred times before. She piled the items in the sliding closet Julian hadn’t noticed until Irena opened the door beside them. “I put these things away. Go to the back, two more is no problem. Have fun.”

Isabelle looked to her girlfriend. “Is Madi going to join us?”

Jessica shrugged. “She’s probably still practicing for her recital. Irena might bring her up a plate later.”

“Madi?” Julian asked, following Jessica through a different doorway than the one Irena had already disappeared back through.

“My little sister.” Jessica explained, leading them through the tastefully decorated (but probably barely used) front room.

“I’ve got three of them; Madison is the baby so she gets to stay home and be my problem this summer, Selena is a counsellor at some fancy model UN camp thing, and Alexis is in Sierra Leone with her fiancé helping ‘the needy’.” Jessica used air quotes for the last one, groaning.

“Come on, she can’t be that bad.” Isabelle assured her.

“I know, I know. But Alex this, and Alex that, I mean I can do stuff too. Like…” Jessica paused. “I can juggle?”

Dwight snorted. Julian elbowed him into silence.

“Either of you got siblings?” Jessica asked, Isabelle rolling her eyes like she had heard the rant before.

Dwight got a weird look on his face, “No.”

Julian just shook his head. “I’m an only child.”

“Oh god you’re so lucky. If I had a brother maybe we could form teams? But like, it’s always ‘why don’t you get good grades like your sister? Why don’t you participate in things like your sister? You could join a club, or rewrite the bible in Shakespearean like your sister?’ It’s damn annoying.” Jessica said, “I mean they’re nice don’t get me wrong, but if you fuck up oh god they compare everything.”

Dwight’s face was anywhere but the conversation, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. Julian wasn’t sure what that was about but he’d figure it out later. It could be anything, even indigestion from that peanut brittle the hippie’d sold him.

“Yeah but if you’re an only child you don’t have anyone to blame when you put stink bombs under everyone’s chairs at thanksgiving.” Isabelle said giggling.

“Who actually uses those things?” Julian asked, a little disgusted.

“Her.” Isabelle pointed, Jessica shrieking with laughter.

“You promised-”

“No I didn’t!” Isabelle said, Jessica playfully trying to push her forward.

“Oh you little liar.”

Dwight cleared his throat before they started going further than just grabbing at each other. They looked at their audience and quickly quietened down, a flush of red on both of their faces. Thank god, because Julian didn’t want to have to break that up.

Julian was quickly realizing this was why he didn’t like hanging around couples. Even with other people, unless everyone was paired off it quickly became a battle of PDA vs. logic. He didn’t want to have to contend with that; even when it was him and his dates for public events. Those girls didn’t ignore everything around them. He was happy for Isabelle, but Jessica’s ‘this is my girlfriend Larson!’ attitude was going to get annoying.

Either way, Jessica brought them out to the back. “Yeah, so this is the patio- and that’s the yard.”

The patio seemed normal enough, matching the Mediterranean feel of the rest of the mansion. Terracotta tiles and a black set of patio furniture. There was some large bronze urns with plants in them, a background feature rather than a centrepiece. The patio was covered in glass making a hybrid sunroom and balcony.

Jessica’s version of a yard though… if that was a yard, it made any million dollar property in LA look like a dry patch of grass.

They had driven up a long driveway to get to the house. The lining of orange trees had lead Julian to believe that was most of it, but no. The patio was on a raised part of the house, the first floor with a garden level below them. From up here it seemed to stretch for ages, miles of orange trees in neat row after neat row. And somehow, Jessica just sat down like she hadn’t just shown off a farm that could drown a small town in orange juice for a year.

Isabelle and Jessica predictably sat next to one another. Jessica tried to push the chair in for Isabelle but only ended up scraping the chair earsplittingly loud against the stonework floor. Julian winced at the sound, glaring at Dwight as if he was about to do the same. Dwight held his hands up. Julian rolled his eyes and they sat. Irena hurried out with an extra two place settings and a bowl of salad without tongs. That made the settings five in total (presumably if Jessica’s little sister chose to emerge from her room).

The clatter of dishes from the other room signaled Irena was to be back shortly. Jessica wasted no time locking her hand with Isabelle’s, smiling over at Julian. He didn’t particularly care.

Thank god for the glass covering as well- from the look of the clouds the humidity was getting more and more cloying. The sky above the covered patio was dense and dark. Still no matter how oppressive they seemed, the sun still hit them and lit the sky up in warm, orange tones. This time, it didn’t seem out of place for the rain to start.

It wasn’t in drops, it was more like splashes. Someone opened up a tap in the sky and let it run over the mansion and it’s property. The waves washed over the glass, making it hard to see without shrouding them in darkness. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a sun shower this bright.

“It’s been a pretty dry summer, we were due for a rainstorm.” Jessica noted.

Irena was back with plates, two on each arm. Julian heard Dwight mutter a thank you to his left, but Irena didn’t seem to notice it. She just fussed over Jessica’s hair and offered her an elastic which she declined.

“Dry? It’s rained so often since I’ve been here.” Julian said, “Heck it rained earlier today.”

“To be fair that was pretty short.” Dwight pointed out. “It wasn’t even more than a few minutes.”

Jessica nodded. “It’s weird to have a bunch of sunny days without even a bit of rain. I guess you guys have been lucky, but it’s not good for the plants.”

“Still had to postpone a beach shoot.” Julian said.

“I didn’t have to be in that scene, so I can’t relate,” said Isabelle, picking up a forkful of rice.

“Well good for you.” Julian shot back. Isabelle just smiled back cheekily.

“So it’s just you and your sisters?” Dwight asked between bites.

“Well our parents were here this morning, but they’re usually out for whatever constitutes a ‘social event’ tonight. Sometimes they drag us along, but thankfully I would have been a distraction.” Jessica pushed her curls out of her face. “I really hate getting dressed up for those things.”

“Like investor meetings? Corporate dinners?” Isabelle asked.

Julian sighed, “We do things like that for the show; press tours are always a nightmare logistically.”

“Yeah, but you’re actually invested in it. I have to go and play nice and show that we’re a happy family unit with absolutely no flaws whatsoever- I mean we are pretty awesome, but we’re not a politician’s family. We’re an agricultural company.” Jessica sighed, twirling her fork between her fingers getting peas all over her end of the table. Julian could see why she didn’t feel like she fit in at those things.

“Maybe we have met before.” Dwight said suddenly, as if seeing Jessica in new eyes. “You guys were at the fundraiser for that guy who wanted to be senator right?”

Jessica’s eyes lit up. “Johnathan Garcia- he was trying to hit up my dad for cash at some stupid dinner down in-”

“Miami right?” Dwight continued. “And there was a bunch of girls who kept getting hit on by his sons until someone threw a platter of-”

“Sausage rolls!” Jessica shrieked with laughter. “That was me! The guy didn’t know what a lesbian was. I didn’t know how else to tell him to back off.”

“I think my uncle was about to high five you until your mom took you out of there.” Dwight said. “That was awesome. It saved my mom from having to talk to Garcia while he went to clean up his kid. We weren’t going to donate to him anyways.”

“So wait- that means,” Jessica paused. “Shit you were that guy who was getting talked to by security. I thought you were a total creeper, what the hell was that about then?”

“I might have been trying to sneak into the vents.” Dwight said slowly, most likely omitting the reasons, how, and what he planned to do when he was up there. Garlic was probably involved.

“The vents?” Jessica asked, “Dude why?”

“More Indian burial ground stuff.” Dwight said hand waving it. Julian rolled his eyes, yeah, probably something like that.

Jessica nodded sagely. “Good call.”

From there it transitioned into Jessica telling stories of other events for the upper curst of Floridian society that she ruined- and Dwight unsurprisingly trying to one up her with similar events of his own. They did touch on acting, the studios, what it was like over in California, and Jessica quizzing the rest of them on places they had visited (apparently the Florida Keys was as far away as she had ever gone because farming was full time work for her family).

Julian was a little surprised that Dwight was as involved in the conversation as he was. He had been expecting a verbal sparring session with Jessica, still unaware he in no possible sense of the word would move in on Isabelle since they were in a PR relationship. But no, it was Jessica and Dwight who had the most to say, which in a way made sense. Isabelle and his own lives were in the public sphere, they almost assumed most people knew so much about them that people would just ask if there was something they didn’t know. But to have to offer information, to volunteer things when their private lives were something they automatically hid- it was a bit of a strange feeling.

It was strange they both ended up spending the summer with someone who simply didn’t give a shit about their fame. Even when the conversation looped back round to Universal- the parks and studios- Jessica’s only question that seemed closer to the norm was if they could get _anything_ they asked for at craft services. And yes, yes they could.

The food wasn’t half bad. Jessica had let them know everything came from neighbouring farms or their own. Julian reserved his “good”s for special occasions though.

It was when Jessica was quizzing Dwight about some guy who always was fishing next to the off ramp to Orlando that the bubble was broken.

“But I was like, how can you catch anything in a swamp, it just doesn’t make sense. Iz, you saw the guy too, back me up.”

Dwight shook his head, “Obviously he’s not actually fishing. It’s just a ruse.”

“But for what?” Isabelle asked, enraptured in the conspiracy.

“Oh my god! It’s Julian Fricking Larson!”

The shrill, young voice broke through the conversation. Julian didn’t expect this was how Jessica wanted him to meet her little sister- though from the scowl on her face she hadn’t planned for her to come down at all.

Not even four feet tall, Madi (as Jessica screeched) had tightly coiled hair like her sister but was ten times as energized. The presence of a celebrity probably had more to do with that than a natural inclination. She dropped the extra cutlery she had been holding with a clatter and immediately scurried to Julian’s side.

“Oh my god Julian Larson- omg. I am such a big fan. I’ve seen all of your movies, and I watch _Something Damaged_ every week religiously. I loved last season when you had to face off for-”

“Woah, hi.” Julian said, leaning back in his chair as Madi practically clung to his side without touching him.

“Hi!” She said with a giant smile. “Jessie he said hi to me.”

“People typically do that- and step back he’s just a guy not a zoo animal.” Jessica said, elbows on the table and waving a fork at her sister. “Cut it out Madison.”

“Jessie I literally can’t believe this. You are the best sister ever.” She scampered around the table to hug her sister around the shoulder. “First you turn _THE_ Isabelle Montero into a lesbian, and now you brought Julian effing Larson home. I love you so much!”

Isabelle opened her mouth, maybe to say something about Madi’s claims but Jessica was already scolding her sister for the both of them.

“I didn’t do this for you. And seriously, that’s not how it happened. Just calm down and watch yourself. What if mom heard you talking like that?” She pushed her sister off of her, blowing curls out of her face exasperated.

Madi didn’t seem deterred. “But you know I love _Something Damaged,_ how can I not freak out?”

“No I didn’t actually- not until you nearly threw Isabelle into the ground with a hug. Like, stop freaking out.” Jessica said. She lowered her voice, trying to hide embarrassment.

Dwight muttered under his breath, “Leave Julian alone.”

Julian elbowed him. “Did you just make a damn Chris Crocker reference? It’s 2011, grow up.” It didn’t stop him from laughing at it though.

“You dug up my Supernatural videos, you know I’m online a lot.” Dwight said back while the sisters argued. Isabelle just looked out of place, trying to get a word in as the two bickered. Julian also just noticed Dwight had been absentmindedly scratching a pentagram on the tabletop. Well at least Madi didn’t have the market cornered on awkward moments.

“I can sign something for you if you want but you have to promise not to post about where you got it okay?” Julian said, like he was doing Madison a huge favour. “If you did you could ruin some secret plans Isabelle and I have going on with our managers. It would also be really bad for your sister and you don’t want that right? It would mean Isabelle and I could never come over again- or Maisie, or Clark, or anyone else from the show.”

Madison’s expression blanked. Her mouth dropped. “You, they could just… come here. I only have Nathan’s autograph from last year’s _Som-,_ “ _She_ screeched in the most tween way possible. “Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes!!!”

She grabbed one of the cloth napkins from the table, leaving and coming back in a moment with a sharpie. “I won’t tell anyone where I got it! I’m trustworthy! Oh my god, I get to have a secret with the cast of _Something Damaged._ ”

Dwight snickered from beside Julian, silenced but not sobered by a glare from Julian. He had to admit Madi was one of the more over the top fans he had encountered in California. Usually he had Carmen or Carlos around the shift some of the pressure. Here, it was just one, but he missed the two of them very much. At least Madison wasn’t questioning who Dwight was or why he was there. He simply was background to her, and that would be easier than trying to keep a hungry fan off his private day plans.

Once Madi had the napkin tucked away she turned back to her sister, “I can’t believe you didn’t even know who you were dating. You’re so old.”

“Am not.” Jessica shot back juvenilely.

“And you can stay forever.” Madison declared, hugging Isabelle spontaneously.

Isabelle could only pat the girl on the back with a strained smile. “Um, thanks?”

“I want to give you a tour of the groves.” Madison said, bouncing between her sister and Julian’s side of the table. She seemed to have an endless amount of energy. She hadn’t even sat at the table; which was pretty convenient because the rest of them were already done eating.

“But it’s raining. We can’t show anyone around when it’s coming down like this.” Jessica protested. “If you want to show them around anywhere, at least let it be in the house.”

“But you said I couldn’t show Isabelle around earlier because mom asked you to do stuff for the market.” Madison whined.

The group of them got up from the table (except Dwight, who was now adding a caption to his pentagram scratches). Isabelle crossed over to Julian’s side quickly, ignoring the sisters whom she probably was already familiar with from her day with Jessica.

“I will let you drive my Rolls Royce for a whole month when we get back to LA if you agree to this tour- if it gets Madison out of the house it’s worth it.” Isabelle whispered in Julian’s ear. She didn’t make it obvious, crossing her arms and leaning in. Julian would have asked why, but you didn’t need to drop a brick to make a noise around him.

“Alone time?” Julian asked. “I expect the keys the day we’re both back in the city.”

“Deal.” Isabelle said, nodding. If they shook hands it would be too obvious.

“I’d love to see the groves. I’m sure they’re beautiful right before sunset.” Julian chimed in.

Madison squealed. “They are! Come on!”

Jessica looked surprised at Julian’s sudden enthusiasm. “I don’t know…”

The rain had let up a little, but it still wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Jessica looked wary, probably not a fan of having her little sister embarrassing her even further. Isabelle looked between Julian, Jessica, and Madison (who was already looking for umbrellas for everyone). She impatiently tapped her fingers on the back of the chair, shifting her weight as their hosts tried to come to a conclusion. Julian wouldn’t usually be so keen to spend time with a fan, but Isabelle’s Rolls was beautiful. It would be even more beautiful with Carmen driving him around in it all day.

“A little rain shouldn’t stop us, it’s just a bit of water.” Julian smiled. “Besides I love rain, it’ll be fun.”

“Well you came to the right state if you like rain.” Dwight said. He added a cross to the scratched design he was working on, a small mural emerging. “You should see this place when the hurricanes hit. Now that’s a mess.”

“It’s not even close to that bad, please come on Jessie.” Madison pleaded.

“Fine.” Jessica said. Obviously outnumbered, and only at the last moment picking up on the look on her girlfriend’s face. She looked flushed and ordered her sister to go find some raincoats for everyone, because she didn’t want any actors getting sick and having producer’s set on her ass.

It took barely a few minutes for Madison to gather up a bunch of umbrellas and jackets courtesy of Irena. She was practically skipping down the stairs to the garden level, the groves behind a glass door and down the level path from the honest to god courtyard.

Isabelle held Jessica’s hand, a step behind Julian and Madison. Madison insisted on holding an umbrella above the two of them. Dwight was awkwardly off to Julian’s side, still unacknowledged as anything other than human by Madison’s tunnel vision for celebrities.

They entered the groves, seemingly endless rows of orange trees all the same as the last. The whole place was dense with rain making it hard to see the air between the trees or even above. Madison attempted to tell Julian and Isabelle everything there was to know about the fields and their family history.

Off to the side there was some harvesting equipment, a shed or two scattered as they walked farther into the acreage. They made slow progress though as there was a lot of land, with plenty of hills and dips in the ground. It could have been faster, but they were bound to Madison’s small instep and insistence on holding the umbrella handle above her head to shield Julian. It would be sweet if she wasn’t trying to get so close.

Still, Madison was cheerful and sincere. Jessica however was getting what her girlfriend had been getting at; and Julian was to fulfill his end of the bargain.

“You know what would be fun- though I would love to hear more about how your great grandfather brought orange cuttings from South America or something…” Isabelle said, not really listening to Madison’s abridged history lesson. “It’s so big here, why don’t we play Hide and Seek?”

Jessica’s eyes lit up, meeting her girlfriend’s. “That would be so much fun, right Madison?”

Madison laughed. “But I know the fields so well, I would find you all in a minute.”

“Nah, I think I could find a spot where you would never find me.” Julian said, distracting Madison.

Her eyes lit up, obviously thinking about finding Julian and having him all to herself while everyone else was hiding. “Oh, but it would be too easy.”

“Well we never know unless you try.” Isabelle insisted.

Julian would have gotten worried over the obsessed look in Madison’s eyes as she looked at him. It scared him for a brief moment before his conscious mind reminded him this was a little girl, the sister of his friend’s girlfriend. She was just star struck; but he still had no intention of being a one-on-one plaything, even if Isabelle was going to use something other than ‘my everlasting thanks and friendship’ as a reward this time.

He shot a look over to Dwight, clad in his jacket from the morning which seemed to be repelling water well enough with its large cloak-like hood. He also seemed a little worried about Madison’s enthusiasm but seemed to be taking his cues from Julian. “It could be fun?”

“I’ll count and then find you all in a minute!” Madison declared with all the confidence of a child.

“Up to ten, and no peeking!” Jessica said, already grabbing Isabelle’s hand tighter and stepping backwards. Julian didn’t know why they even made up a pretense, they were moving back towards the house. Probably ready to shed their jackets in a moment. He would have laughed if he had the time; it would have been a completely unironic one.

Madison nodded, turning towards the base of a tree with her hands over her eyes. Jessica and Isabelle didn’t even wait for her to start counting before they started running back towards the house.

As soon as all the girls’ backs were turned, he grabbed Dwight’s hand. Madison’s loud “One!” echoed in the fields. He pulled Dwight with him in the opposite direction and started running deeper into the groves.

“Come on, let’s lose her.” Julian urged, hearing the hurried counting behind them. Thankfully for once a kid seemed to be playing fair and actually hiding their eyes. There was a reason he liked working with people older, not younger than him.

Julian shed the bright orange raincoat he had been given, leaving it on the ground behind them. They ran a few rows over, and down another long stretch before they reached a curve. They could hear the “Ten!” further behind them, but without any bright colours they could blend in better with the monochrome rain.

Though their footfalls squelched in the wet ground, the rain dulled the noise. The rain picked up again, soaking them to the bone as they ran. Even if Madison was trying to yell after them, it seemed useless as the rain on the leaves sounded like a storm of sound. They could hear her, but not what she was saying. The groves were simply too large, and she was too small to catch up with them even if she could see what direction they had gone in.

Some oranges may have fallen the rain. They dotted the ground, threatening to roll Julian’s ankle if he hit them. Dwight tried once or twice to slow them, but Julian just laughed it off.

“Come on, are you scared of getting hurt? I’m sure you’ve done worse in Windsor.”

“We never played hide and seek with an obsessive eleven year old!” Dwight said, lacing his hand more properly in Julian’s instead of being led by his wrist.

“But you dealt with the twins?”

“You don’t hide from the Brightmans, you survive the Brightmans.” Dwight said.

Julian smirked. “Are you sure you really survived?”

Dwight smiled back. “Barely.”

Jessica’s little sister may know these trees, but Julian figured they had gone so fast that even if they yelled now they wouldn’t be found. The trees dipped down into a wetter part of the field, twisting in less organized rows and getting taller than the barely-sapling cuttings they’d had closer to the property. The trees they ran past now started twisting, older and more entwined with one another. They didn’t seem to be as pruned, which worked to their advantage as Julian really didn’t want to be found.

Dwight pulled back at Julian’s hand, tugging him against the bark of a thicker tree. “So the kid is creepy, but why are we running again?”

Julian chuckled. “I’m better bait. Isabelle told me if I could get her some private time with her girlfriend, I get her Rolls Royce for a month.”

“A Rolls? You can’t do anything fun in one of those. At least let her bribe you with an Aston Martin.” Dwight said immediately.

“Do you like any kind of car that wasn’t popularized by a fictional character?” Julian asked.

“Did you really let us get caught in a rainstorm just so your friend can have sex with her girlfriend?” Dwight asked.

“Wouldn’t you do the same for yours?” Julian asked pointedly.

“Well we could just hypnotize someone instead of distracting them, but… maybe?” Dwight said considering.

Julian rolled his eyes. “Besides, we’re not even caught in a rainstorm. It’s just rain.”

“Rain is cold. We’re going to freeze to death later.” Dwight said, crossing his arms.

Julian stepped out into the rain, lifting his face to the sky to feel the warm rain falling down on his face. He was soaked, but the heat of the day still hadn’t left the ground. The sunlight was fading, but not gone so half the sky was pink and the other was gold, lighting up the raindrops in a myriad of colours.

Dwight paused, an unreadable expression on his face. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, looking at Julian as he pushed his wet hair out of his face.

Julian looked over at him. “What?”

“You okay?”

Julian had always enjoyed the rain. And even the few times he got sick, it wasn’t an issue still to be caught in it. He tugged at the collar of Dwight’s coat, “I’m not cotton candy. A little water isn’t going to hurt me.”

Dwight looked back at him. He sighed, relenting to some unknown emotion and held his hand out. “We should keep going.”

Julian hesitated before taking Dwight’s hand, moving forward through the rows a little slower than before. It was more like a walk now, clinging close to the edge of the trees but far enough away that Madison probably wouldn’t think they’d strayed so far.

The house looked no bigger than a fingertip if you held your hand up to it. Julian wondered how they would get back. They would probably have to go the same way they came. It might just be worth it for the way the sunset was starting to light up the groves, the rain still warm.

They didn’t have to talk. Julian was thankful for the quiet. It wasn’t like the city at all. It was more like in Dwight’s car, just the two of them and an empty landscape passing by. He could feel Dwight was hesitant at first about the rain, but they were both soaked so it didn’t make much of a difference. The rain, the light, the feeling of being alone- he saw a smile sneak onto Dwight’s usually wary look at huge open spaces. It made him feel odd, but a good sort.

“What are you kids doing here? This is private property.”

Well, that was nice while it lasted.

A random farmhand, probably finishing up the day’s work, emerged from the trees like a spectre. He looked almost exactly like Peters from the market that morning. This one however wasn’t as expected and twice as surprising.

“Fuck!” Julian shouted, startled backwards into Dwight.

The two of them, instead of announcing themselves they did the first thing that popped into their heads. They ran.

Instead of a good natured try at outrunning a child, this time they were outrunning a creep. They booked it forward through the groves, far enough they thought they lost him. Julian almost stumbled but Dwight pulled him forward over barely kempt bushes and tree roots poking up through the soil. They barely missed patches of slick mud, grown deep in the still pouring rain.

They ran far enough that Julian swore he could see the road through the edge of the trees. They must have veered further right than he’d thought in the rain. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, they could catch a ride back up to the mansion. Right after he restarted his heart.

“What the fuck was that?” Julian asked.

Chest heaving Dwight leaned back against a tree. “I have no idea. Ghost?”

“Shit, no. But he didn’t have to scare the hell out of us.” Julian complained, holding his hand to himself and trying to catch his breath. He involuntarily shivered, the sun growing lower in the sky and the warmth of the rain fading.

“Come here. You’re going to freeze.” Dwight said, pulling Julian over.

“No I won’t.” Julian was stubborn; so was Dwight, who ignored him and tucked him under his coat. He was too big for it to work properly, but it cut some of the chill.

Dwight just pulled him closer under the tree to try and keep him drier. “Shut up and say thank you for once.”

Julian caught his breath, adrenaline fading. He looked up at Dwight surprised, pausing before the two of them burst out laughing. If it was just at what Dwight said, or the whole damn situation neither could figure it out. It was loud, and long; so long Julian swore it got darker by the time he pulled his face out of Dwight’s shoulder, trying to stifle himself.

“We could have just told him we were invited.” Julian said.

Dwight agreed, “he came out of nowhere.”

“Oh my god we’re idiots.” Julian leant his head back down against Dwight’s shoulder.

“Speak for yourself.” Dwight said good-humoured.

Julian couldn’t help but laugh again. He didn’t mind getting made fun of, if anything it was nice to have Dwight properly sparring against him for once. And the fact it was happening, the both of them soaked and stuck to one another- well he didn’t mind at all. It was nice to be able to look up at Dwight, hair wild and wet around his face, shirt sticking to him. He didn’t need to say anything else when he put his arms around Dwight’s waist, hearing the rain continue to fall against the leaves.

Even after awkward moments and getting scared multiple times, right now he was relaxed. Julian truly felt comfortable right now. And even after all of that, besides the bit for Isabelle, he realized he hadn’t pretended to be happy all day. No fake smiles or false frowns to be had. He didn’t quite understand it, but he could feel the wheels turning in his head.

“Today’s been really fucking weird.” Julian admitted. “But you know what, I’ve had fun.”

“Really? Even after dinner?” Dwight asked, pulling back to look at Julian. “It was kind of…”

“Oh so you picked up on that?” He laughed. “This whole place is a mess- and you have no room to refute that Dwight, it is. Especially with you in it, you ridiculous white-knighting mess.”

“I am not.” Dwight said, not sure if he was supposed to be offended or touched.

“You’re literally sheltering me from the rain in a raincoat- though I’m sure you’d prefer a cloak.” Julian said, picking at the edges of the coat.

“It’s more dramatic.” Dwight muttered.

“Ha!” Julian cried, “I knew you were just as much of a drama queen as me.”

“You wrote the book, I just read it,” Dwight said, reddening anyways. “Besides, you don’t have to hold me back… I’m taller, I make a better umbrella.”

It was a poor attempt, but Julian couldn’t help smiling anyways. “You’re so unsubtle. It’s a nice change not to have to pretend to notice you wear your goddamn heart on your sleeve.”

“I do?” Dwight asked surprised.

“You’re so expressive, you hardly ever keep a straight face- hell you can hardly lie,” he amended himself, “though you’re not bad with half-truths.”

“So basically I’d be a terrible actor?” Dwight said.

Julian could feel Dwight’s arms trembling, maybe from the cold, but more likely from something else.

“Yes. But I’m done dealing with actors and performers. It’s nice to be honest.”

“And this is honest?” Dwight asked, his voice quiet.

“Yeah.” Julian said, leaning up and pulling Dwight’s face to his. His own back was against the tree; letting Dwight hold him there.

The rain made it hard to see the other, so eyes drifting shut felt so natural.

For once Julian felt all of Dwight against him and he didn’t want to move it further, didn’t want to shed clothes or go faster. He liked the way Dwight’s arms felt around him, his soaked hands on Dwight’s hips. They were bony, but lined with hard muscles that were so deceptively thin. He knew they could be powerful, but right now he just leant against the tree and let Dwight lean into him; just enjoying the kiss.

He felt like he could do this forever- that bonfire in his chest when he thought of kissing Dwight getting another log added, keeping warm even in the pouring rain and fading light. He tasted rain and hints of spice from dinner on their lips; but mostly just Dwight on his tongue, chasing Dwight’s mouth with his, meeting him in the middle with each shift of his head.

It wasn’t an attack, a slow give and take between one another. He relished the feeling, making him feel light headed, his heart hot and quick under his ribs. Like his chest was trying to shake him to keep going, but somehow the slower and more carefully they took it, the more his heart skipped; stuttering and stopping his breath.

He didn’t know how long he and Dwight had been standing there kissing, but when they pulled apart they were panting, breathless and heaving like they’d run farther than just the length of the groves. Like they’d done it all standing still.

Their foreheads touched, Dwight’s hand at Julian’s neck and his eyes meeting Julian. It was a lot, like he was seeing the boy in front of him for the first time.

“So in the vein of being honest, what was that?” Dwight asked, his mouth red.

Julian touched his face, his hand shaking. He licked his lips, words somewhere else. He didn’t know what he could say; his thoughts swirling, words eluding him.

“Yes?” Dwight’s forehead was warm against his.

He looked back up and smiled.

“Something new.”

\---

When they got back to the city that evening, the hotel was quiet. The middle of the week didn’t really bring the paparazzi around, especially as it was still around eleven.

Jessica reluctantly had followed the Impala with her bug, the logic of staying an extra night and getting Isabelle in trouble again hadn’t been worth it. Instead Isabelle ended up whispering assurances in Jess’ ear and promising to get away soon.

Madi had been sad to see them go as well. Her computer probably now full of photos, and her brain full of wonder at being privy to secret visits from celebrities. Julian knew if she was this starstuck she wouldn’t have noticed how she had found neither duo during their game of hide and seek; thankfully she didn’t ask why her sister and Isabelle were dry while the rest of them were waterlogged.

Julian looked over at Dwight as they pulled into the roundabout. The security cameras would pick up a license plate, but it wasn’t a problem to have friends. Even if that wasn't the feeling curling in his chest when the car stopped, with Dwight looking back at him.

“So, I got you back in one piece.” Dwight said, holding on to the wheel. He didn’t seem sure what was appropriate. Isabelle and Jessica were in the car behind them. “I guess Carmen and Carlos don’t have to kill me huh?”

“You are thankfully off the hook. Cursed market aside it was a good day.”

“So you’re not going to doubt me next time I have an idea for a road trip?”

Julian laughed, “No I’m still doubting you. If I didn’t, you’d take me to a cemetery or something.”

“I would not!” He exclaimed, before pausing and taking the suggestion seriously. “Well there is a historical cemetery outside-”

Julian touched his hand, squeezing and smiling. Dwight quietened.

“You know, you’re not a bad date Houston.” Julian said as he pulled back and got out of the car.

“Wait what?” Dwight leaned over.

Julian was already out, shutting the door behind him.

The glass didn’t muffle the loud repeated “What!”

Isabelle looked at Julian curiously from the doors of the hotel. From behind it didn’t look like much he knew, but he had to shake off the soft look on his face.

He offered her arm to her with a smirk. “Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I really enjoy writing Jessica, and I can't imagine Dwight and her hadn't crossed past at least once with the obviously vast social circles hyper-rich Floridian heirs run in. Well... Jessica's like second youngest but still. I like having them both as troublemakers.  
> -I was supposed to end with Madison actually finding them, but you know I've had them interrupted a bunch of times and it gets less fresh each time. Even if it would have opened up more internet rumours, you don't need a kid to let the rumour mill grow. I'm saving my last interruption for something special- what that is, I'm not sure what I want to do. I'm saving it, like an F-Bomb in a PG-13 movie.  
> -I had a lot of damn fun with the last half of this chapter. The ending was particularly rewarding for me.  
> -This seemed a little odd characterization wise but that's mostly because the boys couldn't directly interact with one another in front of Isabelle and Jessica. I wanted to drive home how this really is Julian Limited-Perspective unless it's a chapter with Sadie, Morgan, and Lucas.  
> -Speaking of, I want to revisit the SHH soon because WHAT THE FUCK did Julian spring on us all? ;)  
> -Chapter Title by Hilary Duff


	23. An Invisible Locket

The day was hot, pavement steaming in the sun and humidity. It would have been better if it was raining. The breeze off the waterfront behind the gates of Serendipity Hill gave some sort of relief, but even with the shady palm trees and patio awnings there was no other place to be than the pool. 

Morgan’s backyard had been invaded by his friends; his parents didn’t mind as long as they were acting normal for once. His elder siblings were somewhere about; but that was no guarantee they wouldn’t come in with friends of their own and kick the teens out of the pool for their own enjoyment. They would have used Lucas’ backyard but his little sister was having her own friends over.

He didn’t seem that bothered though, rules and regulations on his pool be damned. He sat on the edge of the pool, his feet in the water and his glasses at his side. Lucas was pulling laps, trying to convince him to get in on such a hot day. He countered if he burnt in the sun, no one would notice. The dark divide between his dark brown forearms and his paler torso begged to differ though.

And there was Sadie, sitting on an inflatable dragon with a large black brimmed sunhat on top of her thick curls. She looked like she had eaten a sour cherry blaster and told it was supposed to be sweet.

“Morgan you can’t tell me Father Stephane really wants to make us march in an _anti-abortion_ rally. He does know how morally bankrupt that entire organization is?” She asked.

“The catholic church or the pro-life society?” Morgan asked.

“The Lifers.” Sadie answered, pushing the brim of her hat up to see where he was sitting.

“He is a catholic priest, and you are a literal practionisher of witchcraft. He’d probably not listen to what you, or I your co-conspirator would have to say.” Morgan said, splashing Lucas as he swam by.

“Well I don’t think its right.” Sadie said. “Maybe he’s been cursed. We could lift it!”

“For once I don’t think a Catholic priest advocating for anti-abortion legislation is possessed.” Morgan said deadpan.

Lucas piped up, his long strokes putting him halfway down the pill before he finished speaking. “Father Jamieson might be possessed thought. He was preaching pretty hard on the ‘sinners be damned’ train, and he’s usually the liberal minded one.”

“Just because it’s out of character doesn’t mean it’s a demon.” Morgan countered. “For all we know he got a lecture about his behaviour from the Bishop, or even the Cardinal- there was a meeting last week.”

“Likely, but I still think we should investigate.” Sadie said. “I won’t go to a church run by a cursed priest.”

“You hardly go to church anyway since your grandma died.” Lucas pointed out.

“And the heathen pagan nearly kicked out of a catholic middle school is certainly the one they’re broken up about the non-attendance -of.” Morgan said.

“Oh shut up.” Sadie called, leaning back onto the dragon. “I would curse you if I wanted you know.”

“I wouldn’t expect otherwise.” Morgan said at the same time that Lucas said, “Well at least make it a good curse.”

“What about you Dwight, is Father Jamieson just gone over to the dark side, or is he possessed?” Morgan asked, looking over his shoulder at their fearless leader.

“Huh?” Dwight looked up sleepily from under the large umbrella where Sadie had left him soaked in sunblock. The book on herbology resting against his chest, unlike he’d fallen asleep while reading it. “Curse of course! Wait… what are we talking about?”

“Earth to Dwight. We were talking about mass this morning. What do you think was up with Fathers Jamieson and Stephane?” Sadie asked.

“He was asleep, don’t ask him. Aunt Aggie had to keep nudging him awake.” Lucas said, switching to floating on his back. Morgan then dived in next to him splashing him with water. “Hey!”

“Were you really? First Sunday off in ages and you’re half asleep.” Sadie admonished, tutting her finger towards him good naturedly. “What a terrible catholic you are.”

“It’s because of Larson. He was up all night I bet doing all sorts of terrible things that good catholic boys shouldn’t.” Morgan said, wiping the water out of his eyes while Lucas sighed at the change of subject. Morgan didn’t get to snicker about it when Lucas pushed him underwater, ruining his vision again.

“Was not!” Dwight said. “Ask the butler, I was home before midnight. It had nothing to do with Julian!"

“That’s a lie if I ever heard one.” Sadie said, tossing her hat at Dwight like a frisbee. “How does Aunt Agatha not know you and Larson are a thing by now? It’s interfering with all of our hunting for gods’ sakes.”

“Let alone how the other celebrity and the orange girl didn’t notice.” Morgan said.

“They were occupied.” Dwight admitted to Morgan’s bark of laughter.

“I’m sure Mrs. Houston knows. She’s an omnipotent creature, probably letting Dwight come clean in his own way.” Morgan continued. “Even if she doesn’t know it’s Larson, she’s got to know something’s up. Otherwise she would have lectured him after mass.”

“Wait. You didn’t get in trouble? My mom gave me one for saying ‘may the force be with you’ over the homily.” Lucas exclaimed. He splashed Morgan in the face as he tried to sneak up on him. 

“She always gives you a lecture for that. It’s not any different from the other fifty times you’ve done it. ” Sadie said, “Dwight falling asleep is pretty abnormal though.”

“Could you not talk about me like I’m not here?” Dwight asked.

“Then contribute to the conversation instead of sleeping.” Morgan said, trying to pull Lucas under the water and failing. He awkwardly clung off Lucas’ shoulders but continued talking. “Are the priests cursed, possessed, or just zealots?”

“Uh… all of the above?” Dwight said.

“He’s useless, lost to the world in the sin of lust and debauchery. Lucas, you’re team leader now.” Morgan said, flopping forward against Lucas’ shoulders with a sigh. 

“I thought Sadie was second in command…” Lucas said before Sadie also splashed him.

She got off the dragon and swam towards the edge of the pool. Pulling herself up out of the water took a moment, but she kicked more water at Lucas for good measure.

“I’m not useless, just tired.” Dwight protested from under the monstrously large umbrella. “One late night doesn’t mean I can’t tell if the priests are messed up. And to be fair, we have had this conversation about Father Stephane before. The salt circle and the curse breaking ritual didn’t have any effect so he’s probably just an asshole. Now Mrs. Rodriguez from the choir might be banshee but-”

“We know, we know, how could we hear her sing if she was a banshee?” The group chorused.

“Exactly.” Dwight said, pulling his knees up to his chest as Sadie got closer. “Hey! No don’t you-”

Sadie caught him up in a cold wet hug anyways.

“You’ve got to cool it with the Larson thing. I like you better awake. Though seeing you blush is always fun.”

“And I like me better dry." Dwight said wriggling in her grip. "Besides he’s the one who’s obsessed with me. He said something really fucking confusing yesterday and I don’t even know what to make of it.”

“Well introduce us and prove me wrong. I want to see this guy. I’ve met Todd, and the cookie girl, and hell even Fleur!” Sadie said.

“Her name isn’t Fleur.” Dwight said. “She just happens to be assigned the Beauxbatons uniform.”

Sadie wouldn’t let him go. She smirked. “Yeah so what is her name?”

“I… I don’t know.” Dwight admitted. “And I never said you couldn’t meet him. It’s just I don’t think it’s really up to me.”

“Not like you haven’t met his. The pool nonsense, Clark Sawyer and the guitar, and the damn double date with Isabelle Montero nonwithstanding.” Sadie said accusingly. Dwight coloured. “Trust me Dwight, you two are a thing, even if you’re not labelling it.”

“We’re not talking about this now.” Dwight said. Before Sadie could argue he’d gotten his arms around and under his best friend, lifting her off her feet.

“Dwight! Put me down!” She kicked her feet uselessly as Lucas cheered and Morgan commandeered her inflatable dragon in the water.

Ignoring her shrieks he leapt into the water, pulling her down with him. If she hadn’t already been wet she probably would have punched him. Nonetheless he hadn’t been in the water yet and he shocked himself as much as he had Sadie.

Waves splashed everywhere. Not only were the others hit with a fresh wave of water, the edge of the poolside turned dark and wet, and chlorine got all over the edges of Morgan’s backyard.

Lucas shook his ears out, laughing at Dwight who had somehow still worn a shirt under the umbrella and left it on to jump in. “Afraid you’ll blind us all?”

Dwight didn’t scowl for once and grinned, a non-verbal reply.  He struggled for a moment to get the wet fabric off and threw it in Lucas’ face. Morgan was cackling at them.

“That was underhanded Dwight!” Sadie said, trying to find an opening in her bedraggled curls to see through.

“Like you didn’t see it coming.” Dwight retorted, his own dark hair slicked back by the water. He wasn’t blindingly white, but he was close enough Morgan kept laughing. He could distract her now, but it was only a matter of time. She would interrogate him within an inch of his life so it was nice to have a reprieve.

“You should have seen your face Sadie, it was priceless.” Morgan said, paddling on over to the two of them. “A plus.”

Sadie pouted. “Lucas, quick let me up, I demand a chicken war against this idiots.”

“Do I have to?” He asked.

“It’s this or I hex them and this is easier.” She explained while Lucas was already letting her up on his shoulders.

“Un Guard.” Morgan said waving a pole noodle like a sword at Sadie, already up on Dwight’s shoulders before a challenge was even officially accepted.

“You’re dead!” She said, surging forward with all the speed one could in a pool with an inflatable dolphin passed to her by Lucas.

The fight was longer than it should have been and embarrassingly dramatic by Sadie and Morgan resorting to Shakespearean insults- namely Sadie’s eloquent “spotted sons of a dung beetle and a pox-ridden braggart” which Morgan and Dwight didn’t dispute. Morgan ended it by falling off Dwight’s shoulders after a particularly vicious blow with the dolphin, and pulled both him and Dwight back under the water.

After the fight Morgan was unceremoniously told to get the heck out of the pool. His older sister had her friends coming down in half an hour and they would not take kindly to any 'weird stuff' going on. Or so she yelled at him from the balcony, her hair still in it's silk cap.  

Rather than face the wrath of the girls of Kappa Kappa Theta, the four of them were ushered inside by the maid. Thankfully instead of being left to their own devices they were given free access over the baking stash. A pile of fluffy towels was provided, along with a towering plate of brownies.

Dwight was wrapped in two towels, drying in the air conditioning of the kitchen. His black hair sticking out from under the towels like crow down. He would have been freezing if Sadie hadn't also put on tea, which was in steaming mugs in front of those who needed it.

"We would be careful. And unlike those celebrities, we would be sober." Lucas argued, back on the topic of sneaking into the Universal lots.

"Yeah, I just want to take a few photos in front of Hogwarts. Imagine how it would look in the moonlight! I even have a hat for the occasion." Sadie said. Her own mug of tea had a weird pinch of something added and was almost halfway done.

"It's from a Halloween surplus store." Morgan remarked.

"Do those even exist?" Dwight asked, genuinely curious.

"No I got it off the internet! The girl who made it makes those curly felt witches hats, I got mine in black and red," Sadie explained. "Come on, you can't tell me it wouldn't look amazing."

Dwight still looked sceptical. "Just because it would be fun doesn't mean I could get away with it. My mom's already mad at me for 'attitude' towards middle management, and apparently she didn't appreciate the new things I got the gardener to put in at home."

"They are black iron crosses." Lucas pointed out.

"I thought she'd like them for her climbing vines!" Dwight protested. "I was trying to be helpful."

"You know what would be even more helpful?" Morgan said, "letting us into Universal to properly inspect the place."

"You could buy a seasons pass- enjoy it like the rest of the country does." Dwight said morosely, taking another gulp of tea.

"You owe us though. We're not trying to destroy anything, just snoop around and maybe ride a roller-coaster or two." Morgan said.

"You need the breakers turned on for that; I don't even get that power."

"No, you just have a set of keys, passcodes, and more than enough paranoia to know which way the cameras are pointed on the security guards." Morgan countered. Dwight glared at him but couldn’t disagree.

"If we can't outwit a band of underpaid theme park guards how can we ever take down a ghoul or even a nest of vampires at full strength?" He continued, giving Dwight an innocent look with a mouthful of brownie.

"You're not going to drop this are you?"

"No way." Sadie said. "We're getting into Universal tonight, with or without you."

"And if I'm there too, there's two Houstons the guards can't get mad at in the impossibility we get caught." Lucas said cheerfullly.

"But we're not going to get caught." Sadie assured him.

"Lucas, you're not a Houston." Dwight sighed.

"Technically neither are you if we're going by birth certificates, but would the guards care if they thought we could get them fired?"

"Now that's just immoral." Morgan said, looking at Lucas proudly. He shoved a brownie in his friend's hand and turned back to Dwight. "And he's got a point, what's the use in getting puked on by kids all summer if you can't at least have a little fun in the place after hours?"

"It doesn't work like that." Dwight said, unable to hide in his mug because it was finished now.

"I don't hear a no." Sadie smiled.

Dwight stared down his friend. Her smile didn't budge. Dwight felt himself relenting. "Fine! Okay, you win. We'll sneak into Universal."

"I knew you would say that." Sadie said, patting his arm.

"My mom is going to kill me." Dwight groaned.

"I'll have a great speech for your funeral." Morgan said with a rather uncomforting smile.

"Tonight we dine in-" Lucas cheered while choking on a mouthful of brownie, ruining Morgan's glee at the moment. It wasn't even an original movie reference.

Once they'd all saved Lucas from a death by chocolate it was agreed they would sneak in tonight to the theme park. Dwight knew the security guard patterns and the camera angles that wouldn't raise too many suspicions. As long as they didn't try to turn on a roller-coaster they should be fine.

Morgan asked what could possibly do wrong with a quiet grin. Sadie glared at him and threw a crystal at his head for trying to jinx it. Dwight just accepted his fate.

\---

"Olivia you can't just run away like this!"

"And who is going to stop me? You?" Alicia turned to Clark, emoting as the camera panned to the cast following Olivia rushing from a final bad date. "Grant's really rubbing off on you if you think I'm stupid enough to believe that."

"That's not what he meant, we're just trying to help." Marcie said, Julian and Patrick following close behind though the camera only focused on them for a moment.

"If I wanted your help I would ask for it!" Alicia shook off 'Matthew's' outstretched hand. "Just leave me alone!"

The slap she gave to Clark's hand was a little strong though, a resounding crack sending the sound metres flaring into the red zone. Alicia flinched and Clark started laughing.

"Sorry guys!" Alicia said, the rest of the cast giggling at Alicia's mistake.

The director groaned, "Get it out of your systems before the sun rises okay? This is a serious scene do I need to remind you?"

"Yes, we know." Marcie tapped the cork sandals Lisa's wardrobe called for on the pavement, the sound echoing in the empty back lot.

They were trying to shoot one of the cliff-hanger moments for the penultimate episode of the season. So far it had been going well. The assembled characters were acting as witnesses and concerned friends to Olivia's fraught romantic storyline this season. Mostly Matthew and Lisa would be persuading Olivia that she shouldn't just leave town, but Julian was excited for the scene because being in this scene would mean Grant would finally be not just privately supporting others, but actually being more a good person.

He didn't have a say in the writer's room, but they certainly didn't ignore his interviews in the press about wanting to show that Grant wasn't just a one-note asshole. It was nice to do an ensemble scene where he wasn't expected to just toss out one liners. He still was stealing the show from the background whenever they cut to his soulful confusion, but so far he thought Clark and Marcie were doing a good job playing off Alicia's tension.

"Take it from 'If I wanted your help'." The director called. "And action!"

"If I wanted your help, I would ask for it." Alicia tried it again with a little more cold fury, allowing it to build up as she slapped Clark's hand away from her. "Just leave me alone!"

Clark stepped back, letting Marcie do her line as the scene continued. Julian kept his eyes on the drama while the scene unfolded, careful to keep his face composed even as he ran the lines through in his head. If Alicia was coming at it with a cooler approach, he couldn't try detached-goes-warm, he'd have to be warm toned off the bat when he came into the scene. Okay.

"'Liv... please." Julian-as-Grant said, his shoulders down and his stance open. The camera paused on him, keeping with his sad expression. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re here for you. …I, I’m here for you.”

“You? What do you know about heartbreak Grant? You couldn’t even keep it together when Matthew needed you with his dad, how can I trust you of all people?” Alicia stepped away, letting Olivia’s frantic emotions guide her.

“’Liv, he’s trying. We’re all trying. But nothing will be fixed if you just push us away.” Patrick spoke up, his first line in the scene. Julian didn’t let his eyes flick to where Patrick was, keeping himself focused and in character. Though the way he heard Patrick deliver it made him feel confident they would be able to wrap this scene up painlessly, if not even quickly.

The director let the scene run through once more before pausing them to establish the B-side shots for angles and editing to have some choice with how they would frame the scene. So far Julian was confident that he’d be a favourite by the editing team again, he couldn’t help but be a scene stealer. It wasn’t hubris when you really were the best.

Carmen, Carlos, and the other guards had a relatively easy job tonight. The park was empty tonight, allowing the shops to be dim-lit and easily pass as a proper suburb. They didn’t want to move the equipment too far out so the shadow of a ride in the background would just add texture to the set.  Not to mention the park’s own security meant even less work for easy pay.

He noticed Carmen look up and away towards the foliage near one of the gift shops. She didn’t seem concerned, but was moving quickly. He couldn’t think of it too much as the director was calling them all back to set. He gave a quick wave to Carlos and got back to his mark, Alicia ready to snap at them all over again.

\---

“Oh shit, why are they here?” Dwight asked, ducking behind a shrub near the row of shops the park boasted. They had just been cutting through on the way to the Wizarding World to take Sadie’s picture. The swift dive to the dirt meant none of them would be moving on anytime soon, even if it was only Dwight who was hiding. 

“They who? Don’t play the pronoun game.” Morgan scolded before glancing to the lights and grinning. “Ah. Them.”

Dwight heard the evil teasing in his friend’s voice before he looked up to see the matching grin. “No, no no don’t you dare.”

Sadie looked over at where Morgan was looking. "Isn't that...?"

Dwight groaned. "Why do TV shows thinks the park is better than their lots? Wouldn't it be easier to set up on a soundstage?"

“I wouldn’t dream of letting the cast of _Something Damaged_ know you were here. That would undermine the goal of not getting caught.” Morgan said, though it was clear from his face he was tempted by the potential fall out.

Sadie and Lucas’ growing understanding turned to worry.  The TV show people would be able to bust them for sneaking around. And while they didn’t think they would get in too much trouble, it wasn’t something either of them wanted to deal with.

"I did say I wanted to meet him." Sadie said, not sure if Julian was there but she was sure Dwight could pick him out of the over lit group of actors being yelled at through a megaphone.

“We are not going to get caught.” Dwight said, not acknowledging Sadie’s comment.

“It’s not really getting caught if you reveal yourself.” Lucas noted, shrugged off the black scarf Sadie had wrapped around his blond hair.

“Dramatically.” Morgan popped up the collar of his shirt. Lucas threw the scarf at his face.

“Definitely not how you wanted the boss to see you huh?” A voice said conversationally, interrupting the four’s concentration. Dwight, master of stealth that he was, squawked and fell over into the brambles. Sadie jumped, while Morgan mostly seemed unsurprised. The director’s instructions were still louder though.

“And you are?” Lucas asked, protectively stepping front of his friends.

“Carmen!” Dwight exclaimed.

She smiled at the real intruders. Lucas helped Dwight to his feet as Carmen watched with amusement. 

“These your friends SB?” Carmen asked.

“Family.” Lucas offered unhelpfully. “Who are you?”

 “You’re trespassing on a closed set, and family or not I don’t think my bosses would be okay with me just letting your guys go.” Carmen sounded serious, ignoring Lucas’ question. The quick smile she shot Dwight was enough to reassure him that she was on their side.

“We were just passing through, no need for that.” Dwight hurried. “Besides, I don’t want to just interrupt the shoot, wouldn’t your boss get mad?”

“He might, but his bosses would get more pissed off that I just let some kids through private property unscathed.” Carmen said, picking at her nails. The rest hadn’t fully picked up on who Carmen was, though they knew she had something to do with Julian.

“His mom owns the park, we can do what we like in it!” Morgan interrupted.

Carmen just snorted. “We both know that’s not true kid. Or else you wouldn’t be sneaking around in the bushes. Very subtle by the way.”

“That was the plan.” Dwight muttered at Morgan. Morgan felt no regret.

“Who is this?” Lucas asked Dwight, trying to be surreptitious.

“Carmen Ibáñez, private security. I’ve had more than a few run ins with your friend Dwight here considering he’s friends with my boss.”

Morgan snorted, already having guessed Carmen was the same one Dwight mentioned sporadically. Sadie joined him in snickering. “Friends my ass.” 

Carmen looked over at Dwight curiously. He made a face, they knew. 

“Someone’s ass is involved but I’m not at liberty to say.” Carmen said stone-faced. Dwight covered his face as Morgan and Sadie cracked up harder. 

 “We’re not technically supposed to even be here, so maybe we shouldn’t let my aunt know about this…” Lucas said, wanting to ignore the innuendo about his cousin. 

“Touché.” Carmen said. “So how about you owe me one and I never tell your people or my people that you were hanging out where you shouldn’t?”

“But?” Lucas asked. The others looked at him strangely. He shrugged, “There is always a but with adults.”

“We’re almost adults.” Sadie insisted.

 “You’ve got a learner’s permit, she has a gun. Keep up.” Lucas hissed back to her.

“Perceptive- but no hidden agenda.” Carmen said, turning to Dwight. “Maybe I am curious why you’re lurking around here Houston, but I figure its part of the air of mystery you’re cultivating. Sorcerer’s stone and all that.” She flapped her hands like bat wings, her grin wicked.

“Nothing like that,” Dwight stared down at her in disbelief. She didn’t stop smiling.

“Okay then. Just tell me later. Now run along.”

That dismissal might have worked if the lighting tech didn’t look over at where Carmen had gone.

“Hey Carmen, what are you doing over there? Hey… what are a bunch of kids doing on the lot?”

Now not just two, but ten sets of eyes were on Dwight and his friends.

“We own the place! What’s it to you?” Morgan called before Lucas slapped a hand over his mouth. He wasn’t silenced for long, licking Lucas’ hand to pull free.

“You don’t Morgan.” Lucas whispered, “We’re going to get in so much trouble.”

“They were just going.” Carmen called back at explanation. It didn’t work. The tech was distracted enough by Carmen’s find to concentrate. One boom microphone drooped into the frame as it’s holder looked over his shoulder.

“What is everyone going on about? Jared, I need the lighting centred get to work! Graham, what are you doing with that microphone?” The director shouted, the scene in front of him cut short. “Jared, Jared, what are you doing?”

Unable to do aloud, Dwight groaned internally. Carmen was forced to drag him and Morgan towards the set now that an issue was being made of it. Lucas and Sadie followed willingly, nervous about what was going to play out.

“Shareholder’s kid and his friends. I was just telling them to move along.” Carmen said, her hand on Dwight’s arm in a grip that looked tight but was actually loose.

“And they thought just because their daddy is rich they can interrupt my shoot?” The director called, his megaphone making his opinion heard to the entire set.

“It’s his Mom actually.” Morgan said unhelpfully.

Once out of the shadows they were able to properly see what was going on, not that it mattered. A few of the other actors Dwight vaguely recognized: the kind girl from the pool, Reed’s brother, the guy who was getting everyone drunk, and of course Julian.

He could feel Sadie’s eyes on his back just as much as Carmen’s hand was on his arm. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking.

The cast seemed concerned by the interruption, not many seemed to recognize Dwight after only meeting him once at night, though it wasn’t far from the part of the park they had been before. Clark’s eyes were wide, looking to Julian without speaking. Dwight just kept himself concentrated on Carmen, knowing this wasn’t the ideal way to see Julian again after the confusion he’d been left with. All he knew is that while he wasn’t hiding anything, Julian was, and he wasn’t going to be responsible for anymore upheaval in Julian’s life.

“We didn’t mean to make any trouble, as Carmen said we were just going.” Dwight volunteered.

“Ibanez do you know these trespassers?” The director asked.

Carmen tensed, keeping it professional. “I’m acquainted with the shareholder’s son. We’ve worked together to ensure safe passage for some of your cast during their outings in the Universal parks. I believe them when they say they did not mean to interfere. This shoot was originally planned for another location after all.”

“ _My_ _cast_?” The director questioned. “I know full well that you’re Larson’s security and you’re only trying to get on my good side because the studio would pay you more. Stop lying to me. Larson? If she says she knows them I consider the actions of your employees to be your problem- get them out of here now.”

Carmen gave a soft laugh when he mentioned payment. Dwight was fairly certain she had her brother made more than enough working for Julian. She didn’t falter in her response. “Boss? Your director is making a request, should I correct him?”

Julian made a show of sighing. Dwight noticed his shoulders were stiff, the lack of sunglasses in his costume a hinderance to his laisse affaire attitude. He still crossed over to where Carmen held the group. “I think Carmen is more than capable of taking care of this. I would prefer getting on with the shoot. Alicia’s on a roll and we only have a few hours until dawn hits.”

“Larson…” The director warned. Dwight was glad his mother and her board wasn’t here or else he’d probably be treated to the same stern tone. The director of course didn’t have Agatha Houston’s mixture of disappointment and familiarity though.

“Fine, fine. Carmen come on.” Julian said, waving Carmen forward like a servant rather than an employee.

Morgan looked over at Dwight, as if to ask what he saw in him. Sadie and Lucas’ concerned looks didn’t have to be seen by Dwight for him to know they were there. Carmen let go of him though, squeezing his arm one more time as if to let him know Julian wasn’t going to do anything rash. Dwight didn’t know if Julian had told her what he had said on their last parting, but she was smart and a better guesser than some of the Serendipity Hill Hunters. Came with age he supposed.

Julian and Carmen walked them to the perimeter of the shoot, hearing the director do close ups on one of the actresses’ faces in the meantime. Dwight didn’t like the impassable look on Julian’s face; the quick glances and pursed lips at the three strangers who seemed closer to him than the Windsors ever had been.

Dwight told himself he didn’t care, there wasn’t anything serious to worry about. This wasn’t a big deal if he had somehow screwed up, bringing himself into more of Julian’s life than he was allowed, even if it was an accident. The slight shake to his hands gave him away, but he lied to himself even still.

“Did you lie to Carmen, or did you know this shoot was going on?” Julian asked, disapproving as Carmen let them go.

“We were just trying to take photos of Sadie in the Wizarding World, she’s kind of like our witch and-” Lucas said before Dwight could.

Julian raised a hand, cutting him off with a grimace. “Was I talking to you?”

Dwight flushed, angry. “You asked, he answered. That’s my cousin you’re talking to.”

“You’re the ones sneaking around.” Julian said, less haughty but still guarded.

“Get that stick out of your ass. If I was trying to ruin your tv show I wouldn’t just try to sneak by, I can think harder than a third grader.” Dwight shot back.  

Julian’s frown returned. “I think you should leave.”

Carmen elbowed him, her voice dropping. “Boss, you’re being kind of a jerk. SB’s friends know him a little better than your cast knows you after all.”

A look of understanding crossed Julian’s face, tinged with fear but Dwight got it. “I didn’t rat you out, and no we’re not here to fuck with you. We were honestly just passing by. They were mad I had let you into the park after hours but not them.”

Julian looked at Lucas, Morgan, and Sadie cautiously. He looked like he wasn’t sure what to say to them.

“You’re kind of an asshole.” Sadie said. Julian blinked, she continued. “We’re going to get out of here, but you need to stop assuming the worst when shit happens. It’s not all some master plan to make you look bad pretty boy. Not a good first impression.”

“Sadie…” Dwight hissed, pulling her back and looking over at Julian nervously.

Julian’s face looked like he had stumbled standing still when he and Dwight looked at each other. He flushed, the darkness of night hiding most of it. Julian looked down at the dark-haired girl. “Sorry. I just… I’m working okay? It’s not a good time.”

She was about to make another accusation when Lucas stopped her. “We’re going, now.”

“We’ll talk later.” Julian said looking over at Dwight.

It was there that Sadie softened her fist, uncurling her frustration with the apparent prick and had some sympathy. Morgan hadn’t moved for the entire short conversation, only now helping Lucas pull her away.

Dwight nodded at Julian, who let Carmen steer him back under the lights without a proper goodbye.

The Serendipity Hill Hunters didn’t speak until they were at the Hogwarts Express model. The moonlight was fading, they would have to get back to the car soon, but it wasn’t close enough to day to drive them away just yet.

“So that was him.” Dwight said awkwardly, leaning on the crimson painted train that looked black in the moonlight.

“He’s… kind of a dick.” Lucas said, crossing his arms.

Dwight couldn’t refute that. “Yeah…”

“Not to point out the obvious but this is what happens when you get involved with someone in the closet.” Morgan pointed out. “His bodyguard had to point out that we probably guessed we knew about him- but even then-”

“He might hate me for outing him to you guys.” Dwight finished.

“You didn’t out him. We just guessed.” Sadie said. “It’s not on you to keep everything secret. But he could at least not be such a dick about it. I never thought you would go for someone so closed off.”

Dwight shrugged, “yeah.”

“I don’t see this ending well.” Sadie said, disapproving.

“I didn’t ask your opinion Sadie.” Dwight picked at his fingernails, not meeting her eyes.

Lucas, never one to dwell on Dwight’s love life, tugged Morgan out into the moonlight. “We said we were going to take photos of Sadie in her hat, weren’t we? You have it in your coat don’t you?”

Morgan took it out obliging, unfolding it like a fabric frisbee. “Sadie?”

She shot one more look at Dwight, unimpressed by Lucas’ unsubtle transition. “We’re talking about this later.”

Dwight’s phone buzzed, a text popping up. She grabbed his phone from him while Lucas tried to put the hat on her.

“He says he’s sorry and he’ll talk with you tomorrow. In person.” She paraphrased, still looked unimpressed.

“He’s trying.” Dwight said, taking his phone back. Sadie huffed, looking away as Morgan spun her about into what little moonlight remained.

“Stop moping, they’ll figure it out, they’re big boys.” Morgan said, positioning her with her hands on her hat. He had his own phone out because it had the best lens. They left little trails of herbs from what had been stuffed in her hat and his pockets.

With hands idle, Lucas chose to bring his cousin closer to the light as well. He looked like he was going to just ignore what had happened but instead he asked under his breath, “Is he always like that?”

Dwight was surprised, his cousin didn’t seem to like to hear about anything pertaining to his love life ever. When he’d given girls valentine’s cards he’d covered his ears back in elementary school, when the skype incident happened Lucas was awkward around him for ages- it meant Lucas was really trying.

“He’s scared. He can’t be open cause he’s a celebrity.” Dwight said quietly, trying not to let Sadie and Morgan hear. “I guess I’m lucky that no one expects anything out of me…”

Lucas nodded. “Okay. But no one should pretend they don’t know my cousin, my cousin’s a cool guy.”

Dwight smiled. “So is mine.”

Morgan called them back over, wanting Sadie to be on Lucas’ shoulders in front of the fake castle. He said it would look great posted to the forums especially if Lucas’ had the black scarf back on. They didn’t have enough photos of them looking cool and hunter-y for their SPN fan profiles.

Dwight joined in, making sure Sadie didn’t fall. His phone weighed heavy in his pocket, but his nerves had to take a backseat. He couldn’t control the situation, he could only try and understand and accept it. Hopefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I tried to look through my notes if I had given Carmen and Carlos a proper last name, but I don't think I mentioned one in the story. I had been going with Rodriguez in my head, but I realised that using the most popular Mexican last names is a little lazy. So decided to go with Ibáñez. I like the way it looks, sounds, and of course it's similar to the Japanese guitar brand. Ha.   
> -I've had the pool scene written for ages, but it went through a lot of rewrites and tweaks.  
> -Originally Dwight and Julian were supposed to have a cute af moment in front of the SHH but I realised that it wasn't really possible. Julian is so guarded about his sexuality that he wouldn't be open in front of people he doesn't know, let alone so close to a shoot with his coworkers. I found it hard to write because I'm so used to giving an insight into Julian's perspective, so framing it from Dwight's perspective was interesting because Julian comes off so cold and dismissive without the inner monologue.   
> -Sadie really doesn't have a good impression of Julian now. I wanted to have Julian and Sadie have this epic meeting, but this happened. I'm not mad at it, but Sadie is protective of her best friend. Watch out Julian.   
> -Chapter Title by Taylor Swift


	24. Is To Have My Peace Of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today on "Summer Boy": Isabelle's getting interviewed, Dwight and Julian hash things out and it gets heated, and Clark has some choice words for our favourite movie star. <3

They’d be in interviews all morning. _Good Morning Orlando,_ then _CFFM,_ then a phone interview with _Teen Vogue_ for him and _Seventeen_ for her. It all culminated with playing nice with that weasel from _E!_ Only then would they be allowed to breathe.

They of course being Julian and Isabelle. He wasn’t alone in his torture thankfully, though he wished Marcie had been allowed to join them. Their agents had said it would be a better angle to not have a ‘third wheel’ for it all; this of course only set Marcie’s agent off but that was a battle Julian did not have to get involved in. She would have made it so he didn’t have to keep staring at Isabelle with that love-struck look he used in films. Izzy was great, but he knew she had to find this tedious.

It wasn’t unbearable though if he was honest. He’d been in worse situations with worse company. Isabelle’s positive attitude wasn’t even totally grating. He was in an entire interview block it seemed. He was going on press duty with Clark later, which he wasn’t looking forward to. He’d avoided talking to Clark since last night where he’d been treated to that ‘I’m going to be supportive while still trying to convince you to do the right thing’ stare. Julian wondered sometimes if Clark knew he was doing it. If he didn’t, he was more of a saint than the media trotted him out to be.

Last night. God, last night. If Isabelle had been there the entire game would have been up. He couldn’t have been more transparent if he was a window. She’d have guessed it right away and he’d be kissing his career goodbye. Or what he had of it after Hell Night busted a hole in his last major acting project. If he was honest this producing kick was insurance for when he eventually gets outed and no one will cast him anymore. But he wasn’t ready for that yet.

Being mean to Dwight hadn’t been his intention. He didn’t want to seem too familiar, too friendly… it hadn’t even been fun to shoot barbs back and forth like usual. This time the barbs stuck and he felt shitty about it. It hadn’t been just snark. It’d been venom that left a sick feeling in his mouth. That never happened after offhanded arguments about inconsequential things: drama or music, what kind of asshole Dwight’s manager was that day, or what Carlos had brought him for lunch… that was the kind of shit they should be arguing about, not this. But he had to push him away, he had to do it that way last night…

Julian didn’t want to make the connection. His brain did anyways as it always did when he pushed away people he liked. Except this time was different, his career was at stake. It wasn’t like he was in backwoods nowhere Ohio. Isabelle would still get roles even if they were trashy; he’d be blacklisted.

And this time he wouldn’t be able to run back to Hollywood, happy in the knowledge that that certain someone was sequestered away in a boarding school. If someone found out here, both sides would know. There would be fallout. At least this time they’d fucked- instead of some stupid pining bullshit he still couldn’t believe he had done.

The thing he was most surprised about is that Dwight’s friends knew, and he wasn’t mad. Well, he was mad- pissed actually. Dwight was supposed to know about how much he valued his privacy, and he had just- but the logical side of his brain would cut him off on that rant. Dwight couldn’t keep a secret- at least, not if you actually had a good long conversation with him. Dwight had said he wasn’t closeted, it stood to reason that unlike the idiots at Dalton these Florida kids knew about Dwight. Apparently he even hung out with his cousin- who actually liked their relatives? Weirdo. His friends had probably guessed he was seeing someone and Julian probably outed himself by just involving himself with someone whose last sexual experience was with a damn newspaper geek. It was probably obvious something was going on. If he got pissed, he should just be pissed at himself.

Beside him in the car Isabelle was chatting to Jessica on the phone. He’d been offered to say hi but he declined. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

Instead he stewed while she continued, a sparkle in her eye. The flush on her cheeks was sweet. First love, Julian thought, it was cute and so short sighted. He wished he could just throw himself into something so wholly, but he was who he was and last night was a good reminder of why he spurned attachment.

And yet he was attached to Dwight. Caught up in guilt over dismissing him and the fact he didn’t even know the names of his damn friends. He had known Dwight had them but never felt much inclination to learn their names properly, just picturing them like smaller, annoying Windsors. Oh wait except Sadie. She was the token girl, so he’d expected some kind of gothy girl in a black leather coat who looked tougher than she was- instead he got a short brunette who probably wanted to punch his throat. Great first impression he made.

What did it mean that he wished they hadn’t met him like that?

If he calmed down and thought about it, he’d called it a date. He went on a damn date with Dwight Houston. He’d kissed him without intentions to fuck him later. He’d kissed the guy and now he had things like emotions over what this Sadie girl thought of him, or if Dwight would let him pick the music next time they drove, or if he could take one photo of the two of them just to keep because he’d never had a photo with someone he was involved with like that before. He’d become some kind of sentimental bastard, and it was coming to bite him in the ass. At least it hadn’t taken him a damn year to realize it; didn’t make it okay though.

He sighed, feigning exhaustion and asking Carmen to turn up the music. She complied, Carlos’ Spanish playlist on instead of her dance pop. Isabelle said a quick goodbye to her girlfriend, tucking her phone away. Julian slipped his fingers under his sunglasses to rub the bridge of his nose. They passed a number of buildings but they weren’t important.

“What’s up?” Isabelle noticed his bad mood. “Did something happen at the shoot last night?”

Julian shook his head. “No. I’m just not looking forward to dealing with that _E!_ jackass.”

“Yeah he’s terrible.” Isabelle agreed. “Alicia said some friends of yours crashed the shoot?”

“No one really.” Julian said while inside he cursed. “Just some shareholder’s kid from Dalton. No one really knew we were shooting but the director threw a fit like a five year old anyways.”

“I know you don’t like Thompson but there’s no need to be so dramatic about it.” Isabelle said. “This is the same guy Jess and I met?”

Julian wanted to lie, but she’d see through it if he suddenly knew a ton of Florida kids who also went to Dalton. “Yeah. I got pissed at him for messing with shit so now I owe him. I’m more annoyed he got off so easily. If I screwed around at say, Clark’s photoshoot, I’d be a Grade A jerk. It’s a dick move as a friend.”

“He probably didn’t mean it. Besides if you ruined a Haven shoot Clark would just forgive you and still take you on tour. Maybe follow his example? Mike? Was that his name? He seemed nice, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Isabelle said.

Julian snorted, a misremembrance was only better for him. “Mike, yeah, that’s it.”

“Yeah well you two just apologize and put it behind you.” Isabelle said as if friendships worked on communication in Julian’s world and not on who had the most dirt on him. It seemed a little fake to him.

She continued, “You’re a good friend Julian. You can always tell me if something is wrong you know. I promise I’ll be here for you.”

“It’s not really that big a deal. I’m still more pissed off about the _E!_ thing.” Julian said.

She ignored him. “I’m not kidding. You’re really helping me out with Jessica. I’m incredibly grateful. You didn’t have to.”

He ignored her right back. “So you think ferret face is still an insufferable jerk? I’m betting he’s going to ask if you’re pregnant with my baby- oh no, Patrick’s baby and accuse you of cheating and me of filming it for money just to get a rise out of us.”

“Julian.” Isabelle said, catching his wrist. She was too sweet. “Something’s bugging you.”

“Nothing you need to worry about. I’m just caught up in a lot of things but I’ll manage. I’m working on it.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it was a variation on one he’d told a hundred times before. Wouldn’t it be so simple? Yet again, just sitting in the car with her; easy enough to just tell her the truth. If she knew couldn’t she help him like he was helping him? But no. If he let her know she’d only get more worried, more stressed. She’d act differently around him, they always did.

 _Clark didn’t. Even Derek just wanted what was best for you,_ a voice said in his head. He silenced it.

“Okay.” She said, convinced for now. She leant her head on his shoulder. “Ready to play the cute couple for the cameras?”

“Of course. I’m an excellent boyfriend.” Julian laughed, patting her shoulder.

“I should find you someone when this is all over. I owe you.” Isabelle said optimistically.

“You do that Izzy, I’ll have you know I have quite high standards.”

It lifted his mood until they got to the predetermined spot where they’d meet the _E!_ folks. It wasn’t a full studio interview, but Julian was glad they weren’t doing this in LA. There would be even more scrutiny.

“Isabelle! Julian! How wonderful to have you both with us.” April DuChamp kissed both their cheeks in that fake way of hers; endlessly pretending she was French, not Quebecois. She was still better than the rest of the E! crowd.

“April, always a pleasure.” Julian said, an arm around Isabelle.

The twittering staff around them patted them with makeup, straightened up their hair. Great. As if they didn’t already look perfect, the flies still tried to buzz around. April sat down in the high chair they had set up for her, a pair of them placed across from her. A panelled screen sat between them presumably for promotional images to pop up.

Isabelle tugged at his jacket, nodding towards the staff with their phones out. Julian looked behind him as they snapped pictures for their private collections, twitters, or even other news sites who paid more than their current internship.

“Can’t keep the public wanting can we?” Isabelle asked quietly.

Julian got the unsubtle hint, leaning down and kissing her; just long enough that they’d get what they were hoping for. He knew Isabelle wasn’t one to cling, but her grip tightened on him anyways.

“Impressive as always.”

“I do my best.” Julian said, stifling a laugh and kissing her again on the forehead.  

“Oh that’s sweet, obviously no problems between you two.” April said, at settled herself. Julian wiped Isabelle’s lipstick off his mouth, sitting down across from April’s overly-sweet smile. Even with Isabelle at his elbow, it was harder than usual to put on a calm, happy face.

The cameras were rolling as soon as they sat down. The typical pleasantries were exchanged; talk of how long they’d been dating, how it impacted the relationships on set, where he’d taken her. Julian wondered for a moment if he should bring up that one morning she’d missed call time because she was with Jessica and claim it for himself; but then again that would just raise suspicions. Instead he let Isabelle do a lot of the talking, saving the smiles he could muster to stay on her.

“So with the season’s filming wrapping up and no talks of reshoots what’s next for both of you?” April asked.

“Isabelle has a few projects lined up, don’t you baby?” Julian touched her hand, engrossed like a proper boyfriend should be.

The apparent object of his desires looked like she was about to sputter out a laugh. _Baby? When did we decide on that one?_ “Yes actually. I’ve been cast as the lead in the Joe Wright picture. It’s a thriller about a girl raised to be the perfect killer by her father. A little grim, but once I saw the script I knew I had to try.”

Julian turned to her, honestly surprised, “I didn’t know you got it? Last time you said anything you weren’t sure.”

“I just got the call.” Isabelle smiled, blushing. She’d mentioned it once or twice, but without serious hopes. “I’m so excited. We’re going to start shooting this winter.”

“This will be your first leading role in a film, will it not?” April asked. “Quite a lot resting on your shoulders then?”

“Some, but I know I’m up for the challenge.” Isabelle said confidently.

Julian didn’t have to fake a smile at this. “Of course you are.”

“And what about you Julian? I imagine someone of your reputation will certainly have casting agents beating down the doors.” April leaned forward eagerly.

Julian knew this was coming. Where would he go from this point on? “Well April as you know I’m working on a production of my own. I thought it’d only be fair to put someone else in front of the camera this time.”

“Surely this isn’t the end of Julian Larson on film? We’re all still waiting for that leading man win at the Academy Awards.”

“Obviously not, my agent has a new script every other day. But when I saw this one I was curious, but I know it wouldn’t fit me myself, so I’ve started up my own production company. We’re in talks with others for funding but so far we’re starting shooting in October and you should see _Water on Smoke_ out in late 2012 if we’re lucky. Still a tentative date, but we’re hopeful.”

To his delight they’d gotten the early concept art for the movie poster put up on the screen between then. A tendril of smoke on the edge of the New York City skyline. They would probably switch to Chicago, but right now they had a plan at least. The logo for _93 Productions_ sat in the top byline of the poster. All his.

“So you’re not partnering with Armstrong Productions?” April asked. “Surely your fa-”

“Julian’s doing this by himself. He’s got enough talent in his own right he doesn’t need rumours about nepotism of all things.” Isabelle chimed in, making good on her promise that she owed him one. It also helped that they had had this conversation and Julian had already given her that answer word for word.

“So your retreat from the screen doesn’t have anything to do with the cancelled appearances in _Lost in the Clovers, The Peculiar Case of a Broken Heart,_ or _American Requiem_?” April asked.

Julian didn’t blink: the TV show he was supposed to guest star in before Prom. A Tim Burton ensemble piece he’d been offered to play around in. And the film that Adam almost killed him over.

“No, I just thought it was time to branch out.” Julian’s grip on Isabelle’s hand tightened. She looked at him worried, then at April with suspicion.

“So it had nothing to do with the situation at Dalton Aca-” April would have pressed on, sure she was going to get a scoop when all she would really get is a call from Julian’s lawyer.

“It didn’t.” Isabelle said pointedly. “Shouldn’t you be asking us about the photoshoot _Vogue_ wants to do with us this month?”

No one else was supposed to know about that. Just as well, Julian was about to cause a scene. He didn’t a need a scene with how wound up he was today. He didn’t need a reminder of the most horrible night of his life. Still there it was, behind his eyes. Shit.

The interview was over quickly after that. Julian was still going to call his lawyer.

They left the studio to the car outside where Carmen and Carlos were waiting. There were a few photographers out front, but nothing more than expected. He tucked Isabelle under his arm and kissed her cheek. “You’re great, you know that?”

She smiled, leaning against him. He felt his tension lessen. “April’s going to get sued one of these days.”

“They all will.” Julian declared, regrettably letting go of her as Carlos opened up the door for her to get into the back of the car. He followed her in. “And if it’s not me, you bet I’m going to be funding it.”

They didn’t talk much after that. Carmen made the route back to the hotel to drop Isabelle off. She asked if he wanted to have lunch but he made an excuse about talking to investors. She didn’t need to know. If he was honest with himself, she shouldn’t have to. By this point he knew that she’d either hate him or pity him if she ever found out. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

\---

The black paint on the door was peeling, aluminum not meant for a brush. The place was close enough to the parks that it wasn’t a long drive, far away enough that they shouldn’t be bothered. After that call to his lawyer he was on edge, problems compounding on problems.

He knew Dwight was waiting for him inside. The text was short. _Here._ Hopefully this didn’t spell disaster.

Sunglasses slipping over his eyes, Julian entered. Time didn’t stop; the world inside this café didn’t care award winning actor Julian Larson had come into the busy joint. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved for the anonymity, or annoyed. Maybe everyone was just being polite. If he dwelt on it for too long he’d start thinking things he shouldn’t. There was plenty of room to disappear and he didn’t get much of that.

Dwight evidently had left work for this, his navy dress shirt pushed up his elbows and lanyard sticking out of his pocket. The table was in the back corner, tucked near the kitchen. Julian could still spot Dwight out of the groups of customers; he told himself it was because the guy was tall.

“What would Jeremy say if he saw you slacking during the work day?” Julian said, sliding the chair across from Dwight out and sitting down.

Dwight didn’t seem startled. Elbows on the table, he only shifted to let Julian’s faux-confidence take up space. What did give Julian pause was the look he gave him; Dwight was giving him that disturbingly same apprehensive stare he’d used before they ever really knew each other.

“They moved me to the gift shops. The Wizarding World isn’t my issue today.” Dwight said, playing with a paper napkin. If he’d had a pen Julian guessed there would be a hundred nervous pentacles drawn all over it by now.

This wasn’t how he’d intended this to go. He figured Dwight would know he was working, it wasn’t personal. But as always when it came to his personal life, he miscalculated.

“Well that’s not good. Stuck indoors? You’ll go even more translucent. Is that even possible?” Julian tried.

That got a crack in Dwight’s stare, a hint of a smile. “Yeah, it’s possible. You should have seen me after the first winter in Ohio. I stayed inside covered in blankets for a month it was so cold. This is a tan by comparison.”

It wasn’t much but it was a start. It got enough of a conversation going, literally talking about the weather- Florida to Ohio to California. One of the two overworked waitresses finally got over to them; easy to draw the eye with her bright, florescent red hair like neon against her black roots. Julian hadn’t even looked at the menu but got whatever she recommended with a winning smile. Maybe it was a mistake. When he looked back at Dwight, he was back to full apprehension.

“What?” Julian asked.

“It’s just… weird how you can turn it on and off.” Dwight said, pausing to choose his words. “I know you’re annoyed at how long it took for her to get over here. Yet, you’re not letting her know, you’re almost flirting with her.”

“Flirting?” Julian asked surprised. “Are you jealous?”

“That’s what you got out of what I said?” Dwight asked back.

“Well what am I supposed to say? Did you want me to be pissed at her? You got annoyed last time I was honest with a waitress, hell you even told me to be nicer.” Julian said defensively, leaning back in his chair. “I’m an actor, it’s what I do.”

Dwight sighed, “I know, it’s different from seeing you act versus you being you.”

“And you can tell the difference?”

He shrugged. “I hope so. Or else maybe yesterday really was you and I should listen to Sadie more.”

There it was, the meat of the conversation. Julian nodded unsure how to proceed. This was why he didn’t mix personal and professional life, it always ended up being messy and leading to questions and conversations he didn’t like to have.

“Look, I didn’t want to be mean but you just sort of appeared. You took me off guard.” Julian started.

Dwight shook his head. “No, that’s not good enough Julian. You using my access to the park started this. It’s not like I snuck up behind you, there’s no need to act like I showed up just to sabotage you. Ask my cousin- you know, the one you insulted- how much I was freaking out because I know how much your privacy means to you.”

Julian tried to get a word in but Dwight kept going.

“And just cause I understand why doesn’t meant I have to be happy about it, especially when you’re been blowing hot and cold and jerking me around like an asshole.” Dwight accused. “Yeah, you have been. What the hell do you think calling the other day a _date_ and then just shitting on me in front of your coworkers feels like? I’ll tell you what, it sucks.”

He was angry. But even then, Dwight still knew to drop his voice at the word _date_ and not draw attention. How he managed it Julian didn’t know. He should want to yell, scream out Julian’s secrets and make him hurt. Knowing that Dwight was still trying to work around the boundaries Julian had put on them made his words feel even worse; especially because Julian couldn’t find a way to properly refute them.

“Yeah… I could have handled it better.” Julian said. “I was already stressed and I panicked. I went into overcorrecting mode and I didn’t have to.”

“You can say that again.” Dwight said, “But seriously, what the hell?”

“I wasn’t thinking.” Julian said, chin on his linked hands. For the first time he was avoiding eye contact while Dwight sought his out.

“I deserve an apology Julian.”

The waitress came just then. The two of them leant back from where they’d been sitting, unaware they’d drawn so close together in their conspiring conversation. The food set down cast an uneasy air, like the place around them was a lot lighter than it needed to be. The walls could lift up and away but they’d still be there at the table talking.

It was awkward, being in the position of knowing he was wrong. He could admit faults and flaws. He did it all the time when he was taking critique from directors or confronting film buffs who thought they could come at him for his work. Even at school, he’d be the first to say he could pull higher grades and sometimes threw shit into his papers even with the grade point average he maintained. He could say he needed to improve; but to outright admit it? To not dance around the subject and say sorry? That was harder. Still…

Julian stared at the pepper and salt between them: black and grey next to empty glass. Dwight had already emptied the salt shaker before he arrived, the specks on the ground under their table enough evidence of that. Months ago he’d have called Houston a freak. A month ago he’d think it was weird, but still rib the guy and tell him to cut it out. Now? He’d be surprised if Dwight didn’t do it, didn’t keep to his strange mantra of quirks and routine of superstition.

It unnerved him that he had gotten used to Dwight Houston; that he’d found comfort in the other boy’s eccentricities and came to rely on him for some semblance of fresh air outside of his flurry of public life. He hadn’t been looking forward to this conversation, but he had been looking forward to seeing Dwight. He was something outside of his life in Hollywood and the April DuChamps of the world- someone who knew about that and Dalton and yet wasn’t part of it. He was something else.

“I’m sorry.” Julian said, looking up to meet Dwight’s eyes. “I panicked and I’m sorry.”

Dwight waited. Julian sighed.

“I didn’t mean to be a jerk. The person I am at work isn’t the same person I am when I’m around you. I guess it just happened. I’m sorry Dwight, really.” Julian said.

“And is that person you?” Dwight asked. “For all I know you’ve just been some kind of shapeshifter this whole time.”

Julian barked out a laugh. Of all the responses he’d been expected it wasn’t that. He tried to think of a way to explain it, stifling his humour. “And that’s why it’s hard to explain- you’re too honest. It’s not magic, it’s just… I’m different versions of myself for different people. For interviews or with my parents or with fans or at work, they’re all me; but the me _they_ need me to be. It’s been that way since I was a kid, they always need a different me. It’s just how I work.”

“And who do you think I need you to be?” Dwight asked, confusion across his face.

“You don’t need me to be anyone.” Julian said looking at Dwight back, just as bewildered.

_Oh._

The blush crept up Dwight’s face before Julian could register what he’d said. He coughed trying not to make it awkward. The nervousness in his chest wouldn’t go away though, it sat there in the roaring quiet between them even as the cafe seemed to quiet.

“So yeah…” Julian said. The food, barely touched was suddenly quite interesting.

Dwight’s napkin was practically shredded into a snowy pile of paper. “So where does that put us? I mean, I wouldn’t ask… go with the flow and all that but, well…”

“We’ll figure it out. Maybe not here.” Julian said. The two of them looked at each other. “I promise. But this is getting close to human emotions and I don’t want to express those near people who make less in a year than my sunglasses cost.”

Julian leant back in his chair, properly taking a bite of the weird mixtures of green, white, and red onion on his plate. It was some sort of tomato based pasta he wouldn’t have ordered without that Russian roulette of food he played with the waitress. With it, the level of awkward in the restaurant seemed to return to manageable levels. Dwight groaned, rolling his eyes.

“And you go and say something like that, really?” Dwight said, shaking his head. The conversation was over for now, but he knew Dwight wasn’t going to drop it. “We’re back to regular Julian Larson. Unbelievable.”

“I’m an acquired taste I know.” Julian smirked. “But if you can’t handle me at my best…”

“This is your best? More like the bottom of the barrel in the back of a bad RP dungeon.”

“Woah, Houston,” Julian smirked. “Didn’t know you were into that.”

Dwight blushed. “Like Dungeons and Dragons! Gaming! Not like that!”

“I’ll keep your secret. No one will ever know.” Julian said, taking another bite of his food.

“You’re terrible.”

“I’m wonderful.”

“Excuse me?”

Julian and Dwight looked up, a boy a few years younger than them looked down at them rocking back on his heels.

“Yes?” Julian asked, flipping his sunglasses down reflexively.

“My friends and I were sitting over there,” the boy said, glancing back to a table with another boy and two girls looking right at them with curiosity and excitement. “And we were wondering, are you Julian Larson? From TV?”

Julian felt himself tense, how much had they heard? Until of course he realized the tables next to them glanced over but didn’t seem to care this kid was questioning him, suddenly thankful he wasn’t a household name _yet._ Also with how far away the kid’s friends were, they couldn’t hear crap.

There wouldn’t be a point to denying it, the kid and his friends already had their phones ready to pounce. Julian smiled, looking up at the kid kindly. “That’s me.”

“He’s also the Julian Larson from the movies too. But they’re all crappy so don’t watch them.” Dwight said monotone, snorting when Julian kicked him under the table. “Kidding!”

The kid didn’t seem deterred by Dwight, barely paying him any attention. “Really? We thought it might be you but Kyle said- uh anyways, we were wondering if you could take a photo with us. We’re all really big fans. But if I’m interrupting…”

Dwight looked over at Julian, who looked at him questioningly. A shrug sufficed, but the tightness in his shoulders only signalled that this was only preferable interference by Julian’s fame than last night.

Julian smiled congenially. “Of course, anything for a fan. Those are your friends over there?”

“Yeah, that’s them.” The three sitting across the café waved when the kid gave them a thumbs up, flustered and excited.

Julian got up, his sunglasses still on like a defence. Fans were good. He wouldn’t be where he was without them. They were usually quite sweet. The kid stood by his elbow like he was afraid Julian would disintegrate if he turned around.

Dwight saw the change in Julian’s posture, the relaxation fading to that showmanship he wore so well. “Don’t trip on the red carpet.”

“We could use someone to take the photo.” Julian snarked back, “It’s hard to take a selfie with five people.”

He thought for a moment Dwight would refuse, the delicate armistice they’d settled on broken. Dwight would leave and return to work; Julian left to call Carmen for a lift back to the studio.

Instead Dwight stood, reminding Julian again how tall he was. How could he forget that? Shit how did he end up here?

“Yeah, makes sense.” Dwight said.

“Oh thanks!” The kid said, smiling from ear to ear. Still the attention was firmly on Julian and his forced smile.

The other kids seemed just as happy that Julian came over to them. The small chorus of admiration and delight was a sweet sentiment.

“This is just amazing, we heard you were in Florida but we didn’t think we’d actually get to meet you!” One said, a girl with a neon t-shirt with an angel logo. She was probably a Clark fan as well.

“Yeah, this is amazing. We actually all met through _Something_ _Damaged_ forums, Grant and Matthew are our favourites.” The other boy in the group said.

“They call each other Grant and Matthew as pet names those dorks.” The other girl said, laughing. “Even though we know they’ll never be canon in the show.”

“Maria stop…” The boys blushed, not trying to make it obvious but they couldn’t not hold hands now.

Julian didn’t really know how to feel about it; people finding his straight characters as a vehicle to queer relationships. He knew it happened, he’d gotten enough letters about it- but it felt weird.

“I’ve been made aware of the fanfiction.” Julian admitted with a forced laugh, “I try not to read it though unless interviewers bring it up.”

“Oh yeah! We didn’t mean it like that!” One of the girls assured him, not trying to be whatever they perceived as a creepy fan.

“Just that you really draw people in. Grant’s really one of the best characters in the show.” The other girl assured him. “It’s impossible not to ship him with everyone.”

“Thank you, it’s more the writers than me.” Julian said, practiced lines he’d repeated again and again. He turned himself to a more flattering angle to get them all in a photo.

One of them handed Dwight their phone, the photo app already opened. Julian took his sunglasses off, tucking them into his shirt. The kids gathered around, large smiles on their faces. The photo was taken with little fanfare.

“There, I think I got it.” Dwight said handing the phone back. “I took a few just in case.”

The kids looked over the moon, thanking Julian and apologizing for interrupting his lunch. Julian reassured them it was nothing, anything for his fans. He saw Dwight duck back to the table for a moment, his lanyard going back around his neck.

“I have to get going, you want to stay here?” Dwight asked.

The kids looked at Julian expectantly like he would stick around. Julian didn’t want to look at them anymore. Not when he couldn’t decide on what to feel about those boys, unaware of what they’d stumbled across when he couldn’t articulate it himself.

“I should get back to the studio. Duty calls.” Julian said smiling at the kids, his sunglasses back on.

They expressed their disappointment, begging him to stay but understood. He was glad they did. Carmen and Carlos weren’t outside the door. They weren’t often trailing him these days if he was with Dwight. They trusted him, perhaps Julian should follow their lead.

The two of them left together. Julian didn’t realize until they had walked out that Dwight had ducked back to leave money for their half-eaten lunch. It was like he knew Julian wouldn’t be able to stay once he knew fans were watching him. Strange day it was today.

Dwight’s hands were in his pockets as he walked. He couldn’t read his expression, if he was mad at the interruption or just being quiet. The awkwardness had faded but not disappeared. They could joke but maybe that was just a testament to how well Julian was at avoiding conversation.

The sun beat down on the pavement. Shadows between buildings helped ease off some of the heat, but only walking through the alley and down the stairs into the underground parking garage seemed to cut the humidity. The cold was more refreshing the deeper into the levels they went.

“Are we still in public now?” Dwight asked, the stairwell echoing with nothing except their steps.

“Semi-public.” Julian answered. Neither met one another’s eyes.

“Can we figure it out now?”

“Why are you in such a hurry to?”

Dwight stopped them at the door to the 4th basement level. They couldn’t hear anything from the garage, like they had found a liminal space between comings and goings.

“Because you confuse me.” He said, looking down with brown on brown eyes. “You pretended not to know me, you acted like you hated me… yet you spent a whole day with me and called it a date. I wasn’t going to label this, I didn’t think you wanted to, I thought you were just messing around with me but you’ve gone and changed the rules on me without letting me know. I really did want to just go with it, but if I end up fucked over I want to know about it in advance. So what do you want?”

“You know I can’t come out…” Julian said.

“I’m not asking you to,” Dwight said. “Hell I’m not even asking you to call this a date even though it obviously was but we can’t not talk about this. Sadie’s about to kill me because she thinks you’re going to rip out my heart or something melodramatic.”

“Well you’re the one who told your damn friends about me.”

“I didn’t tell them anything, they figured it out when you were texting me.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Yes you are. I haven’t lied to you, I know that might be a weird concept to you but I’m not going around outing you even if I think it’s weird you’re in the closet.” Dwight said, “It would mean a lot to your fans, but I’m not here to tell you how to live.”

The two boys from the café stuck in both their minds obviously, not just another passing fan to fade away after a day in Julian’s mind.

“I have my reasons okay?”

“And I’m not saying you don’t. But I want you to be honest, don’t make us out to be something casual and then throw the word date in there.”

“It’s not like that.” Julian said defensively, despite not even knowing what he was defending. Why did he say that to Dwight? He was right, it threw this easy relationship he had into some kind of chaos. But it didn’t mean he hadn’t meant it; which, even saying to himself was surprising.

“I just figured I was a distraction from Lo-”

“You’re not.” Julian said. He didn’t want to hear that name, not here. Not when he hadn’t thought about him for weeks. Not when things had been going so well.

“Well if I’m not, what am I to you?” Dwight asked point blank.

The concrete around them was blank. Stark without personality. There was nowhere to hide, no way to just run away again. Not when he had Dwight right next to him, looking at him with questions. And he didn’t want to run, though all his instincts told him to.

Julian leant against him, his fingers resting against Dwight’s arm. “I don’t know. You confuse me as well.”

“I’m not asking you to like, date me. I’ve never actually dated someone so I don’t even know the rules, if there are any. But can you admit you care about me? That you give a damn? Because I do.” Dwight admitted.

To Dwight he wasn’t asking much, just some reciprocity. Somehow Dwight Houston had wormed his way into his feelings, become a part of his life he couldn’t just write off as just summer fling. He was in uncharted waters, but a part of him told him to dive in, lest he drown on land.

“I do too.” Julian said quietly, no louder than a whisper.

“Good.” Dwight said. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Do you have to ask?”

“Yes.”

It would be easier if Dwight threw him against the wall and just took his kiss; bruises on his back to keep the responsibility on him, not Julian. Dwight wasn’t like that though, he’d never been like that.

The air was thick like fog, where you could only see what was right in front of you in the haze. He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked down at him like that: tentative, careful, amazed… He swallowed, suddenly overwhelmed and nodded. He didn’t trust his words to carry him through to a place he wasn’t prepared to go.

Julian tilted his head back, Dwight’s hand holding his face close and the other on his back. He felt Dwight’s groan before he heard it. From sweet to savour, Dwight’s mouth against his pressed against his. He opened up to let him in, to give him more. He felt aware of every shift in Dwight’s stance, pressing him closer.

He tucked a hand into Dwight’s pocket, the shift taking a turn he’d been thinking was off the table at least for another few days. Good to know they could still be stupid teenagers; Dwight’s hand slipping down to his neck and feeling protective. Julian made to reach up and-

Until the sharp slam of a metal door sent Julian springing backwards. It was a floor below them, strings of conversation inaudible as they would shove past them so unaware what they had interrupted. Julian didn’t want to give anyone that indirect power.

Dwight didn’t have to ask this time, tugging Julian’s hand and opening the door behind them into the garage itself.

“If we weren’t in public…” Julian mused.  

“I do have a car.” Dwight said, walking towards his Impala on the far end of the floor. “Not that anywhere is free now.”

“You do have a car.” Julian repeated, as they crossed the floor, that kiss reminding him of what Dwight was capable of.

It took a moment, but Dwight paused beside the door of his car. “Really?”

“Unless you have somewhere else to be?” Julian said slowly. Besides the unseen folks in the stairwell, they hadn’t seen anyone around here.

“They’ll be expecting me back. I mean I’m supposed to be in the gift shop now and I only get an hour for lunch.” Dwight said trailing off at Julian’s unimpressed look. “I mean no?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Julian said, “Now get in the backseat.”

“Julian…” Dwight hesitated. He didn’t open it but he was edging towards the backdoor.

He tugged on Dwight’s lanyard, bringing his face down close before opening the door. “When a guy really wants to go down on you, you say thank you and go with it.”

“Okay.” Dwight said quickly.

It didn’t even take a minute for them to clamber into the backseat of Dwight’s car, crouched in and tightly pressed together on the rarely used backseat. Julian’s hands were already on Dwight’s pants, straight to the button. He didn’t get to the zip though, Dwight hauling him up to suck on his neck. Arching into the touch, Julian’s breath hitched. He could lean back to pull Dwight’s pants around his ankles or he could appreciate the angry red mark he’d have later below the collar of his t-shirt.

Dwight’s hands were on him, down his side, on his back, to his ass. Julian could just groan into Dwight’s shoulder, griping the seat under them for support. Dwight wasn’t just holding him close, he was grabbing him and keeping him there. He felt shivers down his spine, wondering how far his long fingers could spread; how far they could spread Julian. Shit, maybe not in the backseat but he needed that sooner than later.

He wondered how soundproof this car was, his appreciation louder than anticipated. He wanted to stay inconspicuous, but it still felt on the edge. A pair of dark haired faces in the shadows, sure in the moment.

There was a condom under the seat, pressed into his hand by a Dwight who refused to acknowledge it beyond a hard look at Julian. The box was slightly open, hidden amongst a plastic bag from a corner store. He’d tease Dwight about it if he could think clearly enough to snark back.

Julian breathed into Dwight’s shoulder, a hint of teeth on his collarbone. Yeah, that would leave a mark. But right now it felt good, a flurry of sharp nips and kisses. He felt Dwight’s hands grabbing at his ass firmly, holding him with little effort.

Julian regaining his bearings to shove his hand down Dwight’s open pants, the zipper forced open. He vaguely thought in the back of his mind wouldn’t it be a shame if it had just snapped? And Dwight would be forced back to work looking well fucked while Julian sauntered back to set like nothing ever happened. He felt Dwight hard under his palm, dragging his hand over skin and under fabric. A moaned response into his ear, then a shuddering nip to his neck pressed with a kiss.

“You’re such a fucking teenager Houston.” Julian was loath to stop Dwight when his hands felt so good on him, but he couldn’t help himself. He sat back, licking his lips.

“You’re not even a year older.” Dwight said, swearing when Julian ducked down and pulled his pants to his ankles. “Ah, shit.”

“Age and experience.” Julian said, pulling Dwight out with an ease he’d practiced over hiding in too many tight, secluded spaces around the world. He thumbed the tip, Dwight hard in his hand.

Dwight somehow managed to keep his cool- mostly. One hand held the seat below him like he was going to fall off. “I thought it was age before beauty.”

“Oh you little shit.” Julian said, pausing between a frown and smirk.

He rested his forehead against Dwight’s stomach, going still. Dwight’s legs were too long for the backseat. They were tucked in close together.

There was a honk half a floor away. A revving engine. The ripped wrapper on the floor, its contents rolled on.

It didn’t stop him though, his mouth still slipping on and around Dwight. He heard him gasp above him, his knee going up as Julian swallowed him down. His own pants were uncomfortably tight hearing the stifled groans Dwight was making. He flattened his tongue, swiping the tip before doing back down, lips tight around the length.

Dwight’s hand found his hair, twisting in the roots and holding him firm. Julian’s breath faltered. He glanced up at Dwight’s flushed face. He held his bottom lip tight between his teeth, whining as Julian bobbed his head up and down, his fingers tensing each time Julian’s lips went back down with a wet suck, hallowed cheeks and careful breaths.

“Oh fuck.” Dwight’s foot hit the door with a thud, his head back against the window. “Where the hell did you learn that?”

Julian didn’t think he expected an answer, sucking harder with a pleased smirk. The slick sounds and Dwight’s muttered curses enough for him. They had more than five minutes before he had to shove Dwight out the window of his trailer, but anyone still could walk by. Julian’s head down and wrapped around him, he could really impress him. He felt him shudder, Julian knowing it wouldn’t be long now until. He sucked at the tip hard, pausing for a moment, pleased with himself.

He was cut off though. Dwight hauled him up, fingers twisting into his hair, tugging his face up into a messy, desperate kiss. Julian felt his back hit the seat, his own pants tight against Dwight’s hips as he was ground against. Julian couldn’t even properly swear, his breath stolen by the dark shadow on top of him. He knew when the moment was right Dwight would give him what he wanted, what he needed. Just a little damn forcefulness, showing him he wanted it- like he wanted it.

Julian clung back. A hand still kept his head in place, but the other undid his pants and oh fuck that felt right. His heart was racing. His underwear was pushed down, having him sliding against Dwight in a grip whose friction had him bucking into the touch. His nails dug unto Dwight’s back, not sharp enough to cut the fabric of the stupid, stupid dress shirt, but enough he knew Dwight would feel it tomorrow. He hoped he’d feel this tomorrow, be able to press his fingers against his neck and know what happened.

Julian took a shuddering breath, pressed down against the seat with nowhere to go but to fuck himself on Dwight’s hand. His hair stuck to his forehead, both from the humidity above ground and the heat here in the backseat. He couldn’t hold on, didn’t want to. Dwight broke the kiss, his forehead against Julian’s, looking down between them. Julian couldn’t see much, just brown eyes and dark hair and flushed skin. He thrust his hips up, his arms tensing as he held on.

“Yes, yes, yes like that.” Julian’s voice was staccato in Dwight’s ear. Dwight’s own flurried words were a mix of languages Julian didn’t know and curses he did. Hell, he could recite the fucking Magna Carta and make it hot if he kept touching Julian like that.

Dwight groaned, a low noise at the back of his throat; jerking his hand in Julian’s hair and thrusting down. It _did_ things to Julian, squirming as he was under him. The thrum of pleasure he felt pushed him over the edge, coming a moment or two after Dwight. A spike of adrenaline and elation carried him into a keening cry, muffled by Dwight’s hand shushing him. He resisted the urge to suck on his fingers, instead overtaken by an immediate heavy calm.

“Fuck.” Julian leant his head back, his arms relaxing and going limp. Dwight was still braced above him, not enough room to properly sprawl out without crushing Julian completely. He was glad in that moment Dwight had used the condom, or else he’d have to clean both of them off of his shirt.

“You okay?” Dwight asked, catching his breath.

Julian nodded. “Yeah. Glad you could catch up Houston.”

“Really? Insults already?” Dwight asked, more fondly than anything else.

“It’s why you like me.” Julian said smugly.

Dwight nodded. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

They would have to get up, have to go back to their respective jobs. They’d do that eventually, but right now they could pretend they didn’t have to.

A car alarm went off, someone swearing vociferously outside the car.

Okay maybe they had to. But that was okay.

\---

Julian thought they would drive back to the studios in silence. Maybe it would be awkward, considering they only had take-out napkins to clean off their hands and the hem of Julian’s shirt. Sure he tucked it in, but he didn’t like looking buttoned up. It ruined his rakish ‘I don’t care’ look. Dwight would go back to his sweet but stammering uncertainty, never admitting he enjoyed something.

Instead they fiddled with the radio, teasing each other about their taste in music. Julian still didn’t understand the trivia behind Dwight’s rock collection, and Dwight made a face at anything lighter than pop-punk. It was good humoured though. One of Haven’s songs was on the local FM station and Julian sang along with it loudly, putting his feet up on the dashboard. He wouldn’t put them down until Dwight at least tried the chorus between laughs.

There had been another wash of rain to make the streets steam. It was especially prevalent in the backlot where the trailers were. Only pavement and metal, the gate practically melted in front of them. Dwight drove right up, passenger side towards the lot.

Julian still had a smile on his face when he saw Clark waiting for him by the gates. He’d texted him earlier that he’d be back after lunch. He didn’t know where Carmen or Carlos were, but honestly he didn’t put it past Carmen to be the one who set off the car alarm in the garage. Clark however didn’t have that unaffected air Carmen seemed to wear with ease; his face held far more concern.

“Ah shit, Saint Clark’s mad. I wonder what I’ve done now.” Julian sighed.

“What’s going on?” Dwight asked, putting the car in park.

“Probably worried about the photoshoot with Isabelle I mentioned on E! this morning.” Julian said. The segment wouldn’t air until later tonight but he was sure they’d already put together some previews for the internet. “He thinks it’s mean I’m stringing her along.”

“But she’s got a girlfriend? How are you…?”

“Beats me.” Julian said, even though he understood Clark’s logic intimately and was more than a little mad at himself that his conscious sounded like Clark most days. It made sense if you implied he was selfish, even more if you believed that implication.

“Uh okay then.” Dwight didn’t seem to get it. That was okay.

“See you soon?” Julian asked, hand on the door handle. “That is if you’re not murdered by retail hell for taking a two hour lunch.”

“I’ll just salt them before they get me.” Dwight said with a smile. “Text me?”

“Will do.” Julian said getting out and giving a little wave.

Dwight’s car sped around the corner towards the parks. He figured if Dwight’s implications about his mother held any credence then he’d probably get yelled at; but considering she put a teenager in a position of power in a multi-billion dollar corporation she was probably just putting him somewhere to keep an eye on him. He probably wasn’t actually missed.

“Good lunch?” Clark called, the gate opening to let Julian in.

“Incredibly satisfying.” Julian smirked.

Clark looked pained. “Julian, I did not need to know that.”

“What? I’m just talking about food.” Julian continued on, Clark falling into place beside him as he walked back to his trailer.

“Sure you are. And I’m the shortest one in my family.” Clark said.

“I’m sure Reed is in for a growth spurt, about ready to shoot up any day now.”

“Julian.” Clark warned.

“You worry far too much. I’ve made it years without your watchful eye,” he held up his hand, “regarding my love life. That’s why I got Carmen and Carlos, don’t start.”

“And where are they?” Clark crossed his arms.

“Probably lurking. They usually do. Besides I have to let them have time off at some point.” Julian said at the same time Clark’s phone buzzed. Julian snatched it out of his hand before Clark could properly check it.

“Carmen has a great view of your ass.” Julian commented on the photo and its accompanying text of ‘I heard that’. He snorted, giving the phone back. He’d question it more if the food services truck wasn’t also near the gates.

“Point made.” Clark said. “So how did it go with Isabelle this morning?”

“Well I think it went great. We got fricken April DuChamp but my manager assured me the lawyers would be speaking with her.” Julian said, rummaging in his pocket for the key.

“I heard she asked about your cancelled projects.”

“Well it’ll be the last time she tries to bring any kind of journalistic aspirations to fucking Entertainment Tonight.” Julian said, pulling out a pile of metal from his pocket: a few different keys, random coins, the supposed matching bracelet to Isabelle’s “J” necklace he was supposed to wear but found too tacky, and a silver cross. He didn’t put the last one there, but the etched pentacle in the empty centre made it obvious who slipped it in his jeans. Hiding a smile he picked out the right key and unlocked his trailer.

“You’re not worried that it’s going to come off as defensive?” Clark asked, following Julian in.

“It’s old news. She should be focusing on the present, like Isabelle’s new movie and my production work.”

That surprised Clark. “Isabelle’s what? She got the thriller?”

“Yeah, she just got the call.” Julian said, glad the heat was off him. “And that’s why I can’t have DuChamp focusing on the past. We’re all moving forward, equally. I can’t have some uppity interviewer making it all about that time. If I let that define my career I will never be able to be rid of it. So I had to give up the Burton movie? I’ll get another shot, Burton is going to still be making movies until he or Depp drop dead or run out of white face paint, whichever comes first.”

“You were pretty upset about missing out on it…” Clark said.

“But then I’d have to miss out on Something Damaged for this season. And so there we go, instead of balancing two movies, I get to stay here and even go on tour with you. See? Opportunities!” Julian said, sitting down on his couch, smiling up at Clark. He could feel the strained corners of his mouth though fighting to keep his words crisp and optimistic.

“Julian…” Clark sat down across from him. “You’re the hardest working guy I know. You come to set with everyone’s parts memorized not just your own. You’ve pulled all-nighters for scenes you’re in the background of. You flew to Japan for a group of interviews and still did a game show appearance before you even got to the Hotel. You love your work. Even when it’s killing you… and while I’m glad to see you actually taking a break I worry that you’re not entirely all here.”

“What are you saying Clark?”

“I don’t think you know what to do.” Clark admitted. “Usually you’d be trying to do your own projects, and while this film you’re doing is yours, you’re not in it. You’re coming on tour with Haven, but you’re not the main event.”

“So? Are you mad at me for _not_ trying to be the centre of attention?” Julian asked.

“I’m not mad, it’s just that you’re always filling up your time with things- you were either here with us doing acting or you were back at that school. Now you’re not really doing either… Are you going to go back to more movies and just get tutored in September, or are you going to go back to school?”

Julian opened his mouth to speak, but Clark kept going, evidently he’d been keeping this in for a while. “And where does this guy factor into this? You’re in a PR relationship Julian. I know it’s not the first but Isabelle deserves to know if you’re going to keep this up for any believable amount of time. Especially given her girlfriend. What if either of you are caught? Shouldn’t she know so she can help you as well? You have me, and Carmen and Carlos only know out of necessity, but what if either of you are caught? It would harm both of your careers.”

Clark took a breath.

Julian stared at him, unsure what Clark wanted out of him this time if his smiles weren’t going to work. It wasn’t like these weren’t questions he hadn’t asked himself, even today with those boys in the cafe, holding hands while he still kept people at arms length. He’d considered them, and like anything else, kicked them away until he was ready to deal with them. “Are you done Clark?”

“Almost.” Clark looked at him carefully, like of all the thing he’d said he wasn’t sure how this one would land. “What do you want Julian?”

Julian looked up at the celling like it held the answers. It couldn’t give him the words he needed; the script unwritten as of yet, improv not able to match the honesty of his reply:

“To be happy.”

“And are you?”

Julian laid down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the armrest. He considered the question. His fingers found the metal cross with its crude etchings in his pocket. He didn’t hide him smile this time.

“Getting there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -EMOTIONS, OH GOD. That's how you really get Dwight to pull your hair. I write a lot of Dwight smut that never makes it to the internet so I'm not a stranger to writing him as more agressive, but in this fic I find it like Julian almost has to goad Dwight into it. That being said, this is probably my favourite explicit scene in the fic thus far because Dwight's gotten some positive emotional validation, ergo he's feeling much less inhibited than he has before. Most of the stuff I write Dwight in is based on long term established connections, because even in this fic he has shades of demi/grey (at least while he was getting to know Jules); so no wonder he's going to more into it when Jules admits he does have a soul <3  
> -Carmen is an omnipotent lesbian, she knows all. Santa Claus has her on contract every December, trains all those Elf on the Shelf monstrosities.  
> -Dwight somewhere is on the phone like: "AH SADIE HELP- oh wait you can't help because you hate him, put Morgan on, he’ll make fun of me but he’ll listen.”  
> -If Jules and Izzy weren't both dating weird Floridians, they would make a cute couple for real. At least my Izzy and Julian; that kiss was actually a fun to include.  
> -That cross was a last minute addition; Dwight wants to keep the people he cares about safe.  
> -Clark is hitting on the point that Julian isn't necessarily using just Dwight as a distraction, he's using everything in his life right now to just erase Hell Night from his life. Izzy, Florida, Haven, Dwight, as well as his film and being just a minor character on SD. He's going to have to get smacked in the face before he admits it, but he's managing for now.  
> -Points to whoever knows what film I used for Isabelle's big break!  
> -Chapter Title by Boston


End file.
